UC-NRLF. 


$B    513   2Tt. 


WORLD'S  EPOCHMAKeRS, 


by 


(jEorg!::  AV  Hardx  dd. 


REESE  LIBRARY 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 


THE  WORLD'S  EPOCH-MAKERS 


EDITED    BY 

OLIPHANT   SMEATON 


Savonarola 

By  Rev.  George  M'Hardy,  D.D. 


Previous  Volumes  in  this  Series; — 

CRANMER  AND  THE  ENGLISH   REFORMATION. 
By  A.  D.  Innes,  M.A. 

WESLEY  AND   METHODISM. 

By  F.  J.  Snell,  M.A. 

LUTHER  AND  THE  GERMAN   REFORMATION. 
By  Prof.  T.  M.  Lindsay,  D.D. 

BUDDHA  AND   BUDDHISM. 

By  Arthur  Lillie,  M.A. 

WILLIAM   HERSCHEL  AND   HIS  WORK. 

By  James  Sime,  M.A.,  F.R.S.E. 

FRANCIS  AND  DOMINIC. 

By  Prof.  J.  Herkless,  D.D. 

For  Complete  List  see  End. 


THE   WORLD'S   EPOCH-MAKERS 


Savonarola 


By 


Rev.  George  M'Hardy,  D.D. 


New  York.  Charles  Scribner's  Sons 

1901 


HtSSE 


^V  'S   V 


PREFACE 


One  of  the  Popes — Pius  vii. — is  reported  to  have  said 
that  when  he  got  to  heaven  he  should  begin  by  asking 
whether  Savonarola  was  a  saint  or  a  schismatic,  a 
prophet  or  a  charlatan.  That  was  long  a  keenly  de- 
bated question,  and  for  generations  the  controversies 
waged  over  it  had  an  absorbing  attraction  for  many 
minds.  Those  controversies  have  in  large  measure 
subsided,  yet  the  life-story  out  of  which  they  sprang 
possesses  a  singular  fascination  still,  owing  partly  to 
its  dramatic  surprises  and  the  picturesque  impressive- 
ness  of  its  outstanding  incidents,  and  partly  also  to  the 
momentous  character  of  the  movements  and^jchan^jes 
__i___  it  belongs. 

iT'llils"  volume^  an  atteni^l  'W  hiM^  10  Qusbmbe  the 
figure  which  the  great  Dominican  presented  in  his  day 
and  the  work  he  strove  to  accomplish,  as  well  as  to 
indicate  the  place  in  history  which  may  reasonably  be 
claimed  for  him;  and  in  performing  this  task  my 
endeavour  has  been  to  introduce  such  touches  of  local 
colouring  as  may  aid  the  reader  in  realising  the  scenes 
depicted. 

For  the  facts  of  Savonarola's  career  I  have  drawn 
chiefly  from  the  following  sources : — Villari's  Life  and 
Times  of  Girolamo  Savonarola,  Madden's  Life  and 


vi  PREFACE 

Martyrdom  of  Girolamo  Savonarola,  Clark's  Savon- 
arola, his  Life  and  Times,  Dr.  Creighton's  History  of  the 
Papacy,  Harford's  Life  of  Michael  Angelo  Buonarotti, 
with  Memoirs  of  Savonarola,  Raphael,  and  Vittoria 
Colonna,  Mrs.  Oliphant's  Makers  of  Florence,  Milman's 
Savonarola,  Erasmus,  and  Other  Essays,  Frederick 
Myers'  Lectures  on  Great  Men,  George  Eliot's  Romola, 
and  a  brilliant  sketch  in  R.  A.  Vaughan's  Essays  and 
Remains.  Professor  Yillari's  work,  which  stands  first 
in  this  list,  contains  a  full  and  exceedingly  valuable 
store  of  information,  skilfully  arranged  and  used  with 
admirable  effect ;  and  it  would  be  impossible  to  write 
on  Savonarola  without  being  laid  under  large  obliga- 
tions to  that  book.  I  must  acknowledge  my  indebted- 
ness to  it,  particularly  for  many  of  the  quotations  from 
speeches  and  sermons  which  are  given  in  the  course  of 
the  narrative. 

I  have  also  been  indebted  to  two  writers  who  have 
treated  the  subject  from  the  distinctively  Roman  Cath- 
olic point  of  view.  One  is  Dr.  Pastor,  of  the  University 
of  Innsbruck,  who,  in  his  History  of  the  Popes,  presents 
a  lifelike  record  of  the  Florentine  friar  and  of  the 
circumstances  of  the  times  in  which  he  moved.  The 
other  is  Father  Lucas,  whose  Fra  Girolamo  Savonarola 
brings  together  a  rich  collection  of  contemporary  docu- 
mentary evidence  bearing  on  the  relations  of  parties, 
the  political  and  ppnlp^^inf^t^'fiaJi  iTitri^mp^q,  fl.nd-thn  cor- 

thp.Pflpf^,]  C^"^^^  °^  Rnip^  Both  these  writers,  while 
displaying  a  frank  appreciation  of  the  sincerity  of 
Savonarola's  intentions  and  the  good  service  he  rendered 
to  morality  and  religion,  yet  condemn  him  severely  for 
the  stand  he  took  in  opposition  to  the  demands  of  the 


PREFACE  vii 

Holy  See ;  and  in  order  to  avoid  exaggeration  or  one- 
sidedness  of  statement  on  this  and  similar  points,  I  have 
sought  to  weigh  as  carefully  as  possible  the  arguments 
they  advance. 

With  regard  to  the  various  characters  and  events, 
and  the  aspects  of  society  and  religion,  which  come  into 
view  in  dealing  with  the  main  subject,  other  works  of 
reference  have  been  consulted,  such  as  Gregorovius' 
History  of  Rome  in  the  Middle  Ages,  Hallam's  State 
of  Europe  during  the  Middle  Ages,  Milman's  Latin 
Christianity,  Roscoe's  Life  of  Lorenzo  de  Medici, 
E.  G.  Gardner's  Story  of  Florence,  besides  articles  in 
the  leading  Biographical  Dictionaries  and  Encyclo- 
paedias. 

If  this  book  can  help  to  deepen  interest  in  a  memor- 
able and  eventful  historic  drama,  and  in  the  extra- 
ordinary man  who  played  in  it  so  striking  and,  towards 
the  close,  so  pathetic  a  part,  it  will  have  served  the 
purpose  for  which  it  was  written. 

GEORGE  M'HARDY. 

Kirkcaldy,  March  1901. 


CONTENTS 


CHAP.  PAGE 

t^THE  Age  and  the  Man  .....        1 
iXl.  Boyhood,  EDrcATiON,  and  Eakly  Mental  Struggles      10 


III.  Monastic  Life  at  Bologna 

[ytY.  Florence,  San  Marco,  and  Lorenzo  de  Medici 

i/V.  The  Leap  into  Fame       .... 

I^L  Florence   again  —  The   Mission    Found,    and   the 
Sphere  ...... 

VIL  The  Monk  and  the  Magnifico 

tAin.  Changes  and  Prophecies  of  Change  . 

IX.  Preparing  for  the  Flood         .  .  . 

\X.  Amid  the  Throes  of  Revolution 

XI.  Charles  VIII.  in  Florence 

V^II.  The  Preacher  as  Lawgiver     . 

\Alll.  The  Dream  of  a  Theocracy     . 

(/5CIV.  The  Burdens  and  Perils  of  Power   . 

XY.  The  Hand  of  the  Pope. 

XVI.  The  Uncompromising  Witness  . 

XVII.  The  Pyramid  of  Vanities 
XVIII.  The  Sentence  of  Excommunication  . 

XIX.  Six  Months  of  Silence 


21 

28 
36 

42 

52 

61 

69 

78 

90 

95 

108 

123 

134 

143 

154 

162 

175 


CONTENTS 


CHAP. 

XX.  The  Pope  Defied 
XXI.  Gatherino  Teoubles 
XXII.  The  Ordeal  by  Fire 

XXIII.  The  Bursting  of  the  Storm 

XXIV.  The  Tragic  Close 
UtXV.  Review     . 


PAGE 
187 

200 
208 
224 
242 
261 


SAYONAROLA 

CHAPTER    I 

The  Age  and  the  Man 

The  fifteenth  century  is  remarkable  as  the  period  in 
which  we  can  watch  the  spectacle  of  the  modengrjvorld 
struggling  into  birth.  Some^oi  the  forces  which  had 
been  working  through  the  long  course  of  the  Middle 
Ages  were  becoming  exhausted ;  some  were  producing 
their  inevitable  reactions :  some  were  expanding  in 
power,  bursting  their  old  limits,  and  assuming  more 
advanced  forms ;  new  forces  altogether  were  coming 
into  play.  The  intellectual,  political,  moral,  and  re- 
lipjous  life  of  Europe  was  manifesily^reparin^  for  a 
fresl^  stage  of  development.  The  feudal  system  was 
breaking  up,  and  great  changes  were  transpiring  in 
the  organisation  of  states  and  nations.  Commerce  was 
striking  out  into  new  fields,  and  the  commercial  classes 
were  rising  to  prominence  in  society.  Art  was  spring- 
ing  into  unwonted  activity,  and  in  paintmg,  sculpture, 
and  architecture  exhibiting  amazing  richness  and 
beauty  in  its  creations.  On  every  side  thought  w^as 
stirring;  the  range  of  interests  was  widening;  there 


2  SAVONAROLA 

was  a  growing  devotion  to  literature,  and  the  inven- 
tion of  printing  came  jusi  iii  ivkk  to  multiply  the 
books  that  were  wanted  and  to  meet  the  PTavinp-  for 
kgwledge  which  had  been  awakened.     The   human 
mind  was  in   a  ferment  of   unrest,  throwing  off  the 
bondage   of    old   customs   and  traditional   ideas,   and 
vaguely  straining  after  larger  and  freer  scope  for  its 
,  native  instincts  and  energies.     In  short,  a  movement 
I  was  in  progress  destined  to  affect  the  whole  future 
\history  of  the  Western  world. 

That  movement,  so  familiarly  known  as  the  Renais- 
sance, had  been  going  on  for  several  generations,  but 
by  the  middle  of  the  fifteenth  century  it  had  become  a 
potent  and  pervasive  influence.  Its  centre  was  in  the 
great  cities  of  Italy.  There,  for  many  years  past,  a 
rev^ived  passion  for  learning  had  arisen,  and  princes 
and  nobles  vied  with  each  other  in  their  patronage  of 
intellectual  and  artistic  genius.  Oreel^^^scholar^^had 
visited  Italy,  bringing  with  them  the  manuscripts  of 
ijfieir  own  ancient  classics,  and  they  had  been  warmly 
welcomed  at  the  universities  and  the  courts  of  the 
great.  Italian  students  and  students  from  other  lands 
gathered  round  them,  eager  to  share  the  culture  to  be 
derived  from  the  literary  treasures  which  they  pos- 
sessed. The  number  of  those  disseminators  of  ancient 
Grecian  lore  was  immensely  increased  when,  in  1453, 
the  capture  of  Constantinople  by  the  Turks  drove 
many  of  the  learned  men  of  that  city  to  seek  refuge 
in  the  land  which  was  so  ready  to  receive  them  as 
teachers.  The  result  was  a  marvellous  quickening  of 
intellectual  jictivity.  Men  broke  away  from  the 
narrow  and  formal  subtleties  of  the  scholastic  philo- 
sophy, and  from  the  hard  dogmatism  of  the  scholastic 


THE  AGE  AND  THE  MAN  3 

theology,  which,  enforced  by  the  august  authority  of 
the  Roman  Catholic  Chnro.h^  had  for  a^es  reigned 
sui^rerndT'  It  became  the  fashion  in  all  sections  of 
society,  from  the  highest  to  the  lowest,  to  be  scholars 
and  students  of  the  New  Learning.  The  freer  ideas, 
the  fresher  and  more  natural  views  of  life,  drawn  from 
the  literature  of  pagan  Greece,  exerted  an  irresistible 
charm.  A  „new  philosophy  of  life  began  to  bel 
advocated  and^afiifid— upilli.  Hitherto,  through  the  i 
overwhelming  dominance  of  the  Churchy  speculation 
and  learning^  had  (jiealt  with  questions  mainly  of 
mystical  and  tbeolop^ical  interest ;  and  the  shadow  of 
the  supernatural  and  the  unseen  hovered  over  men  in 
all  their  thinking  and  conduct.  Now  liberty  was 
claimed  on  behalf  of  the  natural  enjoyments  of  man, 
and  on  behalf  of  the  free  exercise  of  all  man's  natural 
faculties  and  energies.  This  was  what  has  been 
designated  the  Humanist  factor  in  the  Renaissance. 
It  was  a  protest  against  the  spirit  of  the  centuries 
that  had  been  lived*"'OirougKran^the  bepnning_of  a! 
new  attitude  towards  the  world  and  the  secular  side! 
of  life  generally,  and  an  insistence  on  a  r^ew  con- 
ception^ of  man's  place  and  range  of  action  amid  the 
world's  interests"  and  affairs.  The  ancient  classics 
were  held  up  as  the  literae  humaniores,  the  literature 
which  nourished  the  fulness  of  man's  being,  and  helped 
man  to  realise  the  variety  of  his  own  powers  and  the 
manifold  attractions  and  uses  of  the  things  around 
him. 

Necessarily,  the  tendency  of  such  a  movement  was 
rationalistic  and  sceptical.  It  generated  a  critical  and 
incmiring  temper,  a  disposition  to  questioaJJaa-^ounds 
of  esiablished  laws,  traditions,  and  beliefs.     But  it  led 


4  SAVONAROLA 

to  no  active  crusade,  no  strenuous  stru^^le  t^  rectify 
the  errors  and  evils  of  the  world.  The  Huqianists 
^ere  not  .jieroic  "feformersT  They  were  content  with 
the  "mental^ma^teipsctibn  which  their  studies  gave 
them.  They  revelled  in  their  freedom  of  thought  and 
in  the  unfettered  exercise  of  their  individual  powers. 
They  pursued  their  learned  researches,  compared  texts 
and  codices,  wrote  commentaries  on  their  favourite 
authors,  translated  Greek  books  into  Latin,  composed 
verses  and  dissertations  after  the  manner  of  the  classic 
poet  or  historian  they  most  admired — for  the  writers 
of  the  Renaissance  were  mainly  imitators  and  copyists, 
and  exhibited  littjlfiuijfiginality  either  in  thought  or 
style.  But  amid  all  their  scholarly  industry  they 
sought  only  their  own  culture,  and  recognised  no 
mis^on  higher  than  to  make  )ife^  as  pleasant  forthem- 
selyes  as  theycould^and  to  leave  tiie  world  to  go  as  it 
pleased.  TiTwas  therefore  a  thoroughly  secular  spirit 
which  lay  at  the  heart  of  the  movement.  It  sapped 
reverence,  high  seriousness,  self-restraint.  It  fostered 
a  taste  for  what  was  graceful,  beautiful,  intellectually 
or  artistically  refined ;  yet  it  left  the  mind  destjtute 
of  anvgrand  or_  noble  aims,  and  exposed  it  to  the 
insidious   allurement^  fiartJbly^eas^e^  J^uxiy-^^   self- 

incfulp-ence,  and  in  many  cases  sensual  gratification. 
Hence  the  widespread  disregard  of  the  common  prin- 
ciples of  morality  which  was  too  patent  an  accompani- 
ment of  the  Renaissance.  Learning  and  scholarly 
polish,  and  not  goodness  or  rectitude,  formed  the  pass- 
port to  social  recognition  and  favour.  The  freedom  of 
action  claimed  and  taken  led  to  deplorable  vices  and 
unscrupulous  irregularities.  The  standard  of  conduct 
was  pagan,  not  Christian.     The  Renaissance  was  not 


THE  AGE  AND  THE  MAN  5 

in  itself  immoral;  nevertheless,  in  liberating;  the 
intellect  from  the  trammels  of  scholastic  and  ecclesi- 
astjgal  auihoriiy,  it  nberaied  also  from  the  superstitious 
restraints,  which  hitherto  had  so  far  held  them  in 
check,  the  baser  impulses  and  inclinations  of  human 
nature,  and  these  carried  men  away  into  immoral 
excesses  with  the  force  of  a  pent-up  torrent.  Benealh 
a  surface  of  brilliant  culture  gross  appetites  and  low 
passions  were  allowed  to  work  without  any  curb  of 
acknowledged  moral  responsibility.  "Italian  society 
p.yhi]iitfid  fl.Ti  nlmost  nnP.xa.Tnpled  spectacle  ofJIterarv. 
artistic,  and  courtly  refinement,  crossed  by  brutalities 
of  lust,  treason,  poisonings,  assassination,  violence.'^ 

As  is  fdVUI'lMy  the  case  when  the  educated  classes 
are  devoid  of  moral  energy  and  principle,  the  political 
rulers  of  that  period  found  their  opportunity  of  aug- 
menting their  own  power  and  swelling  their  pomp  and 
magnificence.  The  decline  of  faith  meant  the  revival 
of  despotism,  as^  li  always  will.  The  pfincesTwho 
governed 'the  several  states  into  which  Italy  was 
divided  developed  into  crafty  tyrants,  who,  while 
posing  as  liberal  patrons  of  art  and  scholarship,  held 
their  people  in  rigid  subjection,  humoured  them  occa- 
sionally by  gaudy  spectacles  and  shows,  and  intrigued 
against  each  other,  leading  all  the  time  lives  of 
voluptuous  pleasure,  greedy  self-aggrandisement,  and 
treacherous  cruelty. 

To  stem  the  tide  of  evil  thus  let  loose,  the  Roman 
Church  of  that  age  was  utterly  incompetent.*^' Thut 
Church,  with  her  wide-branching  influence,  had  grown 
corrupt  through  the  very  prestige  of  her  outward 
success  and  unquestioned  supremacy.  hoYQ.jjLj^tQwer, 
love  JiLjBiQney,   and  love   of  display  were  glaringly 


6  SAVONAROLA 

patent  in  the  higher  orders  of  her  ecclesiastics,  where 
also,  in  numberless  instances,  the  private  habits  and 
connections  were  an  open  disgrace,  setting  an  example 
which  was  only  too  largely  followed  by  the  rank  and 
file  of  the  priesthood,  and  by  men  of  all  grades  among 
the  laity.  True  religion  had  not  altogether  fled  the 
earth ;  yet,  although  it  survived  in  earnest  hearts  in 
hidden  corners  of  society,  the  masses  of  the  people 
had  lapsed  into  a  sordid,  ^Tn^l^p-rialistic  indifference ; 
and  religion.,  as  representp.rj  by  thft  f^jmrph  of  Rome, 
was  essentially  a  revived  pagan  cult,  embellished  by 
the  glittering  veneer  of  a  splendid  and  pompous 
ceremonialism.  "^"^ 

it  was  amid  this  welter  of  intellectual  unrest,  and 
moraly  relig^ious,  and  political  corruptioi^that  Savon- 
arola  appeared.  With  soul  acutely  alive  to  the  peril 
for  Italy  and  for  Europe  inherent  in  the  existing 
licence  and  grossness,  the  Dominican  friar  set  himself, 
as  his  one  governing  aim,  to  work  for  the  purification 
of _  the  Church  and  for  the  restoration  of  society  to 
faith  ann  ri(y|itpnnHQpRs.  karlv  in  his  p.nrep.r  he  r.anp-ht 
a  firm  grasp  of  the  conception  so  vital  to  the  world, 
that  moral  principle,  loyalty  to  rectitude,  and  rever- 
ence for  the  Divine  will,  are  really  the  forces  which 
make  for  progress.  His  life  was  an  incarnation  of  that 
idea.  He  toiled  and  preached  at  Florence — the  very 
heart  of  the  Renaissance  culture  and  pagan  sensuous- 
ness  —  to  get  it  realised  in  private  conduct,  social 
manners,  and  the  administration  of  the  Church  and  the 
State.  He  was  well  versed  himself  in  the  New  Learn- 
ing;  his  mim,  at  lirst  steeped  in  scholastic  lore,  had 
opened  to  the  fascination  of  the  classic  literature  of 
ancient  Greece ;  but  the  pure  and  exalted  moral  fervour 


THE  AGE  AND  THE  MAN  7 

which  breathed  in  the  Christian  Scriptures  had  thrilled 
and   mastered   his   soul.      An   ardent  and   unwearied 
student,  and  possessed  of  high  scholarlj^  attainments, 
hejvvas  no  enemy  to  culture ;  the  definite  object  of  all  I 
his^eltort  was  to  consecrate  culture,  and  make  it  nobler,  / 
more  helpful  to  the  world  and  its  activities,  by  infusing  1 
into  it  the  spirit  of  righteousness.     Right  in  the  niidst 
of  the  Renaissance  movement,  with  its  restless  thought, 
untrammelled  freedom  of  ingniry^   ftfl.ay  ynprals.  and^ 
hollow  jeligious  formalism,  Savonarola  rose  as  a  wit- 
Jiess^QrliLe  supreme  a^iThoritv  of  pui^ity  and  goodness 
as^absolutely  essentiaLto  the  advancement  of  mankind  ; 
ana '  from  nrst  to  last  he  laboured  to  put  a   higher 
earnestness  into  the  manifold  liberated  energies  of  his 
age,  striving  to  turn  them  to  grander  and  more  bene- 
Gcent  uses,  thai  ikeroby,  under  such  lofty  inspiration,, 
they  might  become  mighty  agencies  in   the  world's 
elevation    and    happiness.      He    was    not    simply    a  j 
Reformer,  but  a   Pfrip]?^^   ^^  ^'g'^^^^^"'^^^fihf1,   f^T^<^    ^^«  | 
lite- work  throughout  was^  ^  strenuous  testimony  for 
rjshi^^macs^:      In    the    name    of    righteousness    he 
struggled  to  restrain  the  immoralities  in  which  not 
only  the  common  people,  but  the  educated,  so  freely 
indulged.     In  the  name  of  righteousness  he  lifted  his 
voice  and  used  his  influence  against  the  vicious  tyran- 
nies which  were  stifling  the  life  of  Italy ;  and  in  the 
name  of  righteousness  he  put  forth  all  his  power  for 
the  cleansing  of  the  Papal  Court  and  the  high  places 
.x>f.th.e  Church  from  their  flagrant  scandals  and  abuses. 
True,  his  success   was   not   such,   either   in   form   or  I 
degree,  as  he  had  fondly  hoped.     But  his  effbrt  told   1 
in  ways  and  in  quarters  which  the  subsequent  course 
of  events  only  gradually  revealed;  and  the  spirit  he 


8  SAVONAROLA 

left  behind  had  a  far-reaching  and  silently  moulding 
power.  Sharing  in  the  vivid  mental  quickening  of 
the  Renaissance,  and  profoundly  stirred  by  the  freer 
temper  which  it  kindled,  Savonarola,  by  his  passionate 
prote^]^  for  yi,ghj;eousness.  rescued  the  Renaissance 
from  its  utterly  pagan  bent,  and  saved  it  from  de- 
generating hopelessly  into  the  moral  corruption  with 
which  it  was  threatened  through  the  sensuous  and 
materialistic  tendencies  associated  with  it.  He  fur- 
nished the  antiseptic  which  prevented  it  from  fester- 
ing; he  communicated  to  it  a  higher  and  healthier 
iiiitfllse ;  and  in  this  way  he  strove  to  make  it  more 
directly  serviceable  in  promoting  the  cause  of  true 
well-being,  freedom,  and  progress. 

Thus  Savonarola  occupies  a  notable  place  among  the 
men  who  have  contributed  to  the  shaping  of  history. 
He  was  the  first  mind  in  Italy,  if  not  in  Europe,  to 
turn  JQ  effective  original  use^^^b^Q^  Jresh  intel,leij[.ua1  life 
which  tlie  Renaissance  had  awakened — the  first  mind, 

— ' "■"     '  II.    ..Jl   .L Ill     .1   ..J    -c^i..    -^.X.Il 

nurtured  under  Renaissance  influences,  that  struck  out 

Ion  a  distinctly  independent  line,  and  brought  the  forces 
set  free  by  the  Renaissance  to  bear  on  some  bold  effort 
which  should  mark  a  new  move  forward  towards  a 
higher  civilisation  and  a  larger  good  for  society  and 
the  race.  Many  others  gathered  up  the  scholarship  of 
the  Renaissance ;  many  developed  the  critical  faculty 
which  it  fostered;  many  imitated  the  polished  grace 
of  the  restored  classical  literature.  But  to  vitalise  the 
learning  and  the  quickened  energies  which  the  Re- 
naissance supplied  by  a  lofty  enthusiasm  for  righteous- 
ness, and  then  so  to  use  them  as  to  break  away  into  a 
fresh  path  of  endeavour,  suite j  to  the  needs  of  the  age, 
and  opening  up  to  larger  achievements  in  the  ages  to 


/: 


1^" 


THE  AGE  AND  THE  MAN 


come — that  was  Savonarola's  distinction.    Amid  imita-j 
tions,  pedantries,  dilettanteisms,  arid  elaborate  scholarly  I 
trifling,  his  soul  burned  as  with  a  fire  for  the  great  \ 
spiritual  interests  of  existence ;  and  the  flame  touched  1 
other  hearts  and  lives,  and  set  them  palpitating  with 
new  hopes,  new  and  purer  aspirations,  to  such  an  ex- 
tent as  to  give  a  higher  direction  to  the  emancipated 
life  and  mental  activity  of  his  time,  and  to  convert  that 
life  and  activity  into  th^  npY^arrl-strfl-ininor.  pr9^essive 
force  which  brqught  the  moderft,yorl4  into  being. 


CHAPTER   II 

Boyhood,  Education,  and  Early  Mental 
Struggles 

GiROLAMO  Savonarola  was  born  at  Ferrara  on  the  14th 
of  September  1452,  the  third  in  a  family  of  seven 
children — five  sons  and  two  daughters.  So  far  as  can 
be  learned,  his  father,  Niccolo,  a  gentleman  of  culture, 
followed  no  definite^^irofession,  bu^held  a  favourable 
standing  in  literary  and  fashionable  society.  His 
mother,  Elena — sprung  from  the  noble  house  of 
Buonaccorsr  af^Mantua — seems  to  have  been  a  woman 
of  superior  mind  and  decided  force  of  character.  She 
laid  a  strong  hold  on  her  son's  affections,  and  exerted 
over  him  an  influence  for  good  which  he  gratefully 
recognised  in  after  years. 

At  first  Girolamo's  education  was  mainly  dii;;f^cted 
by  bis  grandfather^  MicheTe  Savonarola,  a  distinguished 
prof©ssor-a»d-^bysicTan,  who  had  gained  renown  by  his 
medical  writings  and  by  his  eminence  as  a  teacher  of 
science.  The  orip[inal  home  of  Michele  was  Padua, 
w],^^re^is  family  had  long  enjoyed  an  honourable 
n^jaae,  but  by  the  invitation  of  that  liberal  patron  of 
learning  and  art,  Niccolo  d'Este,  Marquis — soon  after- 
wards created  Duke — of  Ferrara,  he  had  been  induced 
to  remove  with  his  household  to  the  latter  city;  and 

10 


BOYHOOD  AND  EDUCATION  ii 

there  he  had  been  established  for  some  years  in  the 

dignified    post    of    pV>j«|7ain;Qr»    fr>    Arir^nnjp'g  -gnnyf         He  is 

described  as  a  kindly,  devout  man,  esteemed  by  all 
classes  for  his  benevolence  and  charity  as  well  as  for 
his  scholarship  and  mental  gifts.  Girolamo  was  his 
favourite  grandson,  and,  finding  him  an  apt  pupil, 
Michele  devoted  himself  with  loving  care  to  the  train- 
ing of  his  mind.  The  boy  was  exceptionally  reserved 
and^ilent,  delighting  in  seclusion,  and  taking  no  part 
in  the  pastimes  and  amusements  of  those  of  his  own 
age.  Ferrara  was  often  the  scene  of  gay  pageants 
and  splendid  processions;  for  the  ruling  EsteJ[ai^ily 
revelled  in  displays  of  lavishextravagance,  and  loved 
to  flaunt  their  power  and  wealth  before  the  people's 
eyes  by  parades  of  brilliant  show ;  but  none  of  those 
dazzling  spectacles  appears  to  have  had  any  effect  in 
kindling  young  Girolamo's  imagination  or  drawing 
him  out  of  himself.  He  lived  in  a  quiet  world  of 
his  own,  and  had  no  taste  for  the  vivid  excitements 
around  him,  thus  rev'e^llng;"  at  an  early  stage  trie 
sombre  disposition  which,  all  through,  largely  coloured 
his  life. 

It  was  early  apparent,  however,  that  his  capacities 
for  learning  were  quick  and  keen.  By  the  general 
consent  of  the  household  he  was  destined  for  the 
m£^i£al_profession  ;  and  the  grandfather  took  a  proud 
pleasure  in  preparing  him  for  a  successful  career  in  the 
same  vocation  as  that  in  which  his  own  laurels  had 
been  won.  He  introduced  him  early  to  the  study  of 
Roman  literature,  and  led  him  on  to  the  works  of  the 
ancient  authors  then  held  in  greatest  repute. 

All  too  soon  this  fond  and  capable  instructor  was 
called  away  by  death,  and  just  when  entering  his  teens 


12  SAVONAROLA 

Girolamo  was  left  to  the  guidance  of  his  father  for  the 
prosecution  of  his  educational  course.  He  3y9;S  sent  to 
the  public  academy  of  Ferrara,  where  the  scholastic 
philosophy  was  still  in  vogue.  In  those  days,  notwith- 
standing the  spread  of  the  New  Learning,  the  gateway 
to  the  learned  professions — the  medical  no  less  than 
the  others — lay  through  the  rigid  logical  drill  which 
the  scholastic  philosophy  supplied.  The  books  in  use 
were  translations  of  Aristotle  and  commentaries  on  his 
writings,  and  these  at  tKe  outset  were  the  means  by 
which  the  world  of  knowledge  was  opened  up  to 
youthful  minds.  Girolamo  threw  himself  with  ardour 
into  this  branch  of  study.  Aristotle's  skilful  dialectics 
and  subtleties  of  thought  roused  his  interest  intensely, 
and  afforded  a  vigorous  discipline  for  his  reasoning 
powers ;  and  so  manifest  to  his  teachers  and  fellow- 
students  were  his  acuteness  and  grasp  of  apprehension, 
that  great  expectations  as  to  his  future  began  to  be 
entertained. 

Yet,  deeply  as  Aristotle  had  stirred  him,  it  was  in 
the  works  of  Thomas  Aquinas,  to  which  he  next  turned, 
that  he  found   the^'tadsf '^eSlTarating'^^  his 

intellectual  enthusiasm.  Here  he  was  ushered  into  the 
realm  of  theological  speculation,  and  under  the  leading 
of  tliat  new  master-mind  he  was  influenced  profoundly. 
Instead  of  testing  all  knowledge  by  strict  logical  forms 
and  compressing  it  within  the  accepted  philosophical 
moulds,  as  the  scholastic  writers  were  accustomed  to 
do,  it  was  the  peculiarity  of  Aquinas  that  he  made  the 
teaching  of  Scripture  the  supreme  touchstone  of  all 
doctrines  and  beliefs.  Such  a  method  of  dealing  with 
the  greatest  subjects  of  human  inquiry  fairly  captivated 
the  young  scholar  of  Ferrara,  and  disclosed  fields  of 


BOYHOOD  AND  EDUCATION  13 

research  all  the  more  quickening  to  his  faculties 
because  they  were  novel  and  fresh.  From  Aquinas, 
he  afterwards  said,  "  he  had  learned  nearly  all  the 
knowledge  he  had  acquired."  Day  after  day,  and 
often  far  into  the  night,  he  pored  over  the  learned 
disquisitions  of  the  "Angelical  Doctor,"  and  conned 
the  pages  of  Holy  Writ,  till  his  mind  was  permeated 
and  his  brain  fired  by  the  loftyjdeas^whifih  met  a 
craving^  Jbk^spirit^l^n^jyaid^esU 

For,  during  all  this  time,  the  lad's  grave,  brooding 
disposition  had  been  deepening  steadily.  In  striking 
contrast  to  Francis  of  Assisi,  whose  boyhood  and  youth 
brimmed  over  with  wild  frolic  and  light-hearted  mirth, 
young  Savonarola  held  himself  aloof  from  all  the 
diversions  3.ixd, ^aieties_us]a^^^  tempting   at  his 

years.  He  was  never  seen  in  the  haunts  of  fashion- 
able resort,  and  all  festive  merry-making  he  scrupu- 
lously shunned.  There  were  splendid  receptions  and 
assemblies  occasionally  held  at  the  Este  palace  —  a 
ponderous  castled  structure,  standing  in  picturesque 
dignity  in  the  midst  of  the  city,  with  its  four  red- 
coloured  square  towers  and  massive  walls ;  and  once 
he  was  persuaded  to  join  his  parents  in  their  attend- 
ance there,  but  no  consideration  could  induce  him  to 
enter  within  its  precincts  again.  It  was  not  because  he 
lacked  interest  in  life  or  in  the  pursuits^ of  his  fellow- 
men^_feTl)1ecause  he  1^  and  more  to  look 

on"  life  with  serious  eyes.  Far  from  being  a  mis- 
anthrope, he  had  a  tender,  sympathetic  heart ;  and  he 
was  saddened  by  the  wrong  and  wickedness  he  beheld 
rampant  in  the  world.  As  the  years  of  his  youth 
advanced,  this  feeling  of  sadness  grew  more  pronounced. 
The  reckless  revelry  of  his  native  city  pained   him. 


14  SAVONAROLA 

He  was  haunted  by  the  horror  of  all  the  vice  and 
crime  and  profanity  so  patent  on  every  hand  —  the 
grA  frivolity  ofthe  masses,  the  corruption  of  those  in 
high  places,  ite  shameless  lives  of  the  magnates  of 
society,  and  even  of  many  of  the  great  dignitaries  of 
the  Church.  For  it  was  an  age  of  deep  moral 
degeneracy  in  which  his  lot  was  cast.  Men  plumed 
themselves  on  their  learning  and  their  culture,  their 
taste  for  literature  and  the  arts.  The  new  impulse  to 
study  and  thought  given  by  the  reintroduction  into 
Western  Europe  of  the  great  masterpieces  of  ancient 
Greek  poetry  and  philosophy,  which  for  generations 
had  fallen  into  neglect,  was  at  this  time  creating  a 
vague  unsettlement  on  every  hand.  The  Renaissance 
was  now  coming  in  like  a  flood,  and  all  over  Italy  fresh 
ideas  were  stirring,  the  general  mind  was  breaking  free 
from  stereotyped  beliefs  and  long-established  routine. 
But  along  with  the  intellectual  quickening  thus  pro- 
duced, there  was  also  a  grave  loosening  of  all  moral 
restraints,  a  widespread  abandonment  to  the  laxity 
and  the  sensuousness  of  the  oldpagan_J[ife.  As 
Savonarola  looted  rOttttd-witfr  thaF^rnest  gaze  of  his, 
and  pondered  it  all,  his  soul  rose  in  indignation. 
Religion  had  early  touched  him  with  its  solemn  and 
august  ideas,  but  now  his  religious  feelings  took  on  a 
more  melancholy  hue.  Life  and  the  world  became  to 
his  vision  all  vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit ;  and  this 
impression  was  deepened  when,  in  his  later  youth, 
Ferrara  was  turned  into  an  arena  of  fierce  and  deadly 
strife  over  a  dispute  regarding  the  succession  to  the 
Este  dukedom,  and  he  saw  the  streets  run  with  the 
blood  of  slaughtered  citizens. 

Thus  the  sad  condition  of  society  lay  like  a  burden 


BOYHOOD  AND  EDUCATION  15 

on  his  heart.  Seasons  of  prayer  and  fasting,  and  of 
silent  devotion  in  church,  became  more  prolonged  and 
frequent.*"  In  lonely  walks,  too,  outside  the  city  gates, 
and  along  the  green  banks  of  the  Po,  he  spent  hours 
revolving  in  thought  the  decay  of  goodness  and  the 
hopeless  depravity  of  the  times.  What  were  all  the 
subtle  speculations  of  the  schools,  what  all  the  glitter 
and  spell  of  the  New  Learning,  when  sin  and  debase- 
ment were  blighting  and  darkening  the  whole  aspect 
of  human  life ! 

Sometimes  he  found  a  solace  in  playing  on  his  lute, 
soothing  the  agitations  of  his  soul  by  the  charms  of 
music.  Sometimes,  again,  like  many  another  youth, 
brooding  over  the  evils  of  the  world  and  the  mysteries 
of  existence,  he  sought  in  verse  composition  a  relief  to 
his  pent-up  emotions.  In  1472,  when  twenty  years  of 
age,  he  wrote  a  poem  entitled  "  De  Ruina  Mundi," 
which  is  particularly  remarkable,  not  for  any  graces 
of  diction,  but  for  the  terseness  and  vigour  with  which 
it  gives  voice  to  his  deep  religious  passion  and  the 
sorrow  h^  fel^.  in  vjf^w  r^  ^^^  pr^Ymlinc  rinrnipti^n . 
It  is  certainly  a  gloomy  enough  picture  which  the 
poem  presents  of  the  vices  and  wrongs  of  an  impious 
generation, — the  whole  world  turned  from  God,  and 
abandoned  to  pride,  luxury,  and  licentiousness;  all 
virtue  and  goodness  vanished,  nowhere  a  shining  light, 
no  one  taking  shame  for  his  sins ;  the  sceptre  swayed 
by  men  who  wait  for  prey,  honours  and  wealth  falling 
to  those  who  rob  widows  and  orphans  entrusted  to  their 
care,  and  trample  on  the  poor;  and  while  the  writer 
declares  that  were  it  not  for  his  belief  in  Providence 
he  would  have  been  utterly  confounded,  he  breathes  a 
prayer  that  his  own  heart  may  be  kept  unstained. 


I 6  SAVONAROLA 

Into  the  very  midst  of  those  gloomy  reflections  there 
broke  a  gleam  of  youthful  romance,  which  promised 
for  a  while  to  refresh  his  spirit  and  brighten  his 
conception  of  the  world  and  of  life.  There  had  come 
to  reside  at  Ferrara,  and  in  the  house  next  to  Savon- 
arola's home,  an  exiled  citizen  of  Florence,  of  the  noble 
family  of  the  S^ozzi,  bringing  with  him  a  natural 
dajighter,  whose  beauty  captissifidJ&gJ^oodystudent's 
afiefitioii^-  The  spell  of  life's  young  dream  was  upon 
him,  and  for  a  time  he  revelled  in  visions  of  happiness. 
One  day,  however,  the  spell  was  rudely  broken,  for 
when  he  availed  himself  of  an  opportunity  which 
offered  to  avow  his  love  and  his  hope,  he  was  met 
with  a  repulse  of  haughty  scorn — "Do  you  imagine 
that  the  blood  and  the  great  house  of  the  Strozzi  could 
form  an  alliance  with  that  of  Savonarola  ?"  Staggered 
for  the  moment,  the  mortified  suitor  was  provoked  to 
reply  to  the  lady  by  a  stinging  reminder  of  the  stain 
resting  on  her  birth;  and  that  rendered  the  rupture 
hopeless  and  complete. 

Thrown  back  once  more  on  his  own  dark  thoughts, 
Savonarola  began  to  contemplate  the  idea  of  dexoting 
himiseif— -exclusively  to  the  religious"  life.  He  had 
gradually  given  up  all  thought  of  entering  the  medical 
profession ;  and  the  world  looked  so  vain  and  evil  in 
his  eyes,  that  the  only  rest  possible,  as  it  seemed, 
was  to  retire  from  its  wretched  debasement  and  shut 
himself  up  within  holy  walls.  Yet  he  had  great 
and  serious  hesitations  ere  he  could  determine  on  so 
momentous  a  step,  hesitations  arising  chiefly  from  a 
sense  of  the  grief  and  disappointment  to  his  parents 
which  he  would  thereby  cause;  and  so  for  two  or 
three  years  he  lingered  in  troubled  perplexity,  praying 


BOYHOOD  AND  EDUCATION  17 

again  and  again  for  light  as  to  the  path  he  should 
take.  Once,  it  is  told,  he  spent  a  whole  night  in 
anxious  thought  regarding  his  course,  having  first 
sprinkled  his  body  with  the  coldest  water  to  keep 
his  brain  clear  and  assist  his  meditations.  He  turned 
to  the  writings  of  Plato,  which  were  then  engaging 
the  keenest  interest  in  all  the  learned  circles  of  the 
land,  but  though  he  thus  derived  a  vivid  intellectual 
pleasure,  his  religious  instincts  were  not  satisfied,  and 
a  restless  anxiety  still  haunted  him. 

At   last   the  way  to   a   decision  was   cleared   by  a 

sermon  he  chanced  to  hear  during  a  visit  to  Faenza, 

where  he  entered  a  church  in  which  an  Augustinian 

monk   was    preaching.     The   monk   spoke   some^  im- 

iT  pressive,   searching  word^  aT^v^i^wKicir  Savonarola 

f[  y  would_never  repeat,  but  w^^f^h  to  tibfi  ^Tld  ^^  carried 

(j     in  his  heart,  and  ^haf^wr>3'r]  sfPJ.tlArl  f^r  hhn  t.hp  critical 

ques^ion~which  he  had  been  pondering  over  so  long. 

He  retumeTto "Ferrara  resolved  to  consecrate  himself 

to  the  monastic  life. 

Yet  the  resolution  was  hard  to  put  into  effect.  It 
seemed  as  if  his  mother  divined  what  was  coming,  and 
was  following  his  every  mood  and  movement  with 
watchful  and  pained  concern.  He  feared  to  reveal 
his  secret,  lest  he  should  break  down  and  abandon 
his  purpose ;  and  for  another  year,  therefore,  the 
mental  struggle  went  on.  Then  came  an  incident 
which  all  his  biographers  dwell  upon  with  peculiar 
tenderness.  One  day,  moved  by  the  pressure  of  feeling 
within,  he  took  his  lute  and  played  on  it  a  strain  so 
melancholy  that  his  mother  turned  upon  him  with 
a  look  of  intense  sorrow,  and  exclaimed,  "  My  son, 
that  is  a  sign  of  parting;"  but  by  a  great  efibrt  he 


i8  SAVONAROLA 

kept  his  eyes  on  the  ground  and  continued  with 
trembling  hand  to  touch  the  strings,  without  ventur- 
ing to  answer. 

A  sign  of  parting  it  actually  proved ;  for,  on  the 
day  following,  the  24th  of  April  1475,  the  irrevocable 
step  was  taken.  It  ^Ris  Ihu  fasUTal  of  St.  George, 
and  all  Ferrara  was  gay  with  holiday  crowds  and 
tokens  of  rejoicing ;  and  when  the  rest  of  the  family 
had  gone  forth  to  join  in  the  celebration,  Savonarola 
stole  quietly  from  his  father's  house,  walked  the 
twenty-eight  miles  across  the  plains  to  Bologna,  and 
there  knocked  for  admission  at  the  doors  of  the 
Dominican  convent,  where  he  was  at  once  received 
as  a  novice,  leaving,  as  he  devoutly  imagined,  the 
world  with  its  vices  and  vanities  behind  him. 

After  he  had  gone,  there  was  found  among  his  books 
and  papers  a  short  essay,  entitled  "  OnContemjit  of 
tl^e  World."  which  shows  how  painfully  he  had  been 
impressed  by  the  wickedness  around  him.  /"  Every - 
1  th^^  IS  lull  of   impiety T  of  nsnnr  and   robbery,  foul 
/  and  wickeH^  blaspEemies,  fornication,  adultery,  and  all 
(     uncigahness,  murder   ancL   envy,  ambition   and'  pride, 
\    hyipcrisy  and  i'alseness,  crime  and  iniquity.     Virtues 
Vare   turned^JjatQ   viom    nnfrvTr*^^    into   virlueg.  .  .  . 
Men  are  summoned  to  penitence  by  disasters,  earth- 
quakes, and  storms  of  wind  ;  but  they  do  not  hearken. 
They  are  summoned  by  floods,  diseases,  famines ;  but 
they  do  not  hearken.     They  are  summoned  by  the  im- 
pious deeds  of  J:he  overweening  Turks ;  but  they  do 
not  hearken.    ^¥hey  are  summoned  by  the  affectionate 
voices  of   preacher^ ,and  servants  of   God;   but  they 
do   not   hearken.  *^^11,  in  fine,  are  summoned  by  the 
natural  pricks  of  conscience ;  but  they  do  not  hearken." 


BOYHOOD  AND  EDUCATION  19 

Two  days  later  he  wrote  a  letter  to  his  father,  with 
a  view  to  assuage  the  grief  which  he  knew  was  sure  to 
be  felt  in  the  home  he  had  so  secretly  forsaken.  It  is 
a  memorable  letter,  in  which  the  calm,  deliberate  resolve 
of  the  youthful  ascetic  is  exquisitely  touched  with  the 
tenderness  of  a  loving  son.  It  contains  his  reasons  for 
abandoning  the  world  and  choosing  the  religious  life. 
The  desire  arose,  he  said,  from  beholding  "  the  iniquity 
of  men,  the  debauchery,  the  adultery,  the  theft,  the 
pride,  the  idolatry,  the  dreadful  profaneness  into  which 
the  age  has  fallen,  so  that  one  can  no  longer  find  a 
righteous  man.  For  this  many  times  a  day  have  I 
uttered  this  verse  with  tears — '  Heu  fuge  crudeles 
terras  !  fuge  litus  avarum  1 '  And  this  because  I  could 
not  endure  the  great  wickedness  of  certain  parts  of 
Italy.  Everywhere  I  saw  virtue  despised  and  vice  held 
in  honour.  This  was  the  greatest  suffering  I  could  have 
in  this  world;  therefore  daily  I  entreated  my  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  that  He  would  raise  me  from  the  mire. 
Continually  I  made  my  prayer  with  the  greatest  devo- 
tion to  God,  saying,  *  Show  me  the  path  in  which  I 
should  walk,  for  to  Thee  do  I  lift  up  my  soul.'  Now  God 
has  been  pleased  in  His  infinite  mercy  to  show  it  to  me, 
and  I  have  received  it.  ...  0  Jesus,  rather  let  me  die 
a  thousand  deaths  than  that  I  should  be  so  ungrateful 
as  to  oppose  Thy  will.  Then,  my  dearest  father,  you 
have  rather  to  thank  our  Jesus  than  to  weep.  He 
gave  you  a  son,  and  has  not  only  preserved  him  to 
some  extent  from  evil  to  the  age  of  twenty-two  years, 
but  has  vouchsafed  to  choose  him  for  His  knight  mili- 
tant. And  do  you  not  consider  it  a  great  mercy  to  have 
a  son  made  a  knight  of  Jesus  Christ  ?  .  .  .  Do  you  not 
think  it  is  a  great  affliction  to  me  to  be  separated  from 


20  SAVONAROLA 

you  ?  Believe  me,  never  since  I  was  born  had  I  greater 
sorrow  and  anguish  of  mind  than  in  abandoning  my 
own  father,  and  going  away  among  strangers,  to  sacri- 
fice my  body  to  Jesus  Christ,  and  to  give  up  my  own 
will  to  those  whom  I  never  knew.  ,  .  .  Because  I  know 
you  lament  that  I  left  you  secretly,  almost  as  a  fugi- 
tive, let  me  tell  you  that  such  was  my  distress  and  the 
suffering  of  my  inmost  soul  at  having  to  leave  you, 
that  if  I  had  expressed  it,  I  verily  believe  my  heart 
would  have  broken,  and  I  should  have  changed  my 
purpose ;  therefore  do  not  wonder  that  I  did  not  tell 
you.  ...  I  beg  you  then,  my  dearest  father,  to  cease 
to  weep ;  give  me  not  more  sadness  and  grief  than  I 
have, — not  of  regret  for  what  I  have  done,  for  indeed 
I  would  not  revoke  that  though  I  expected  to  become 
greater  than  Caesar  Augustus;  but  because  I  am  of 
flesh,  as  you  are,  and  sense  is  opposed  to  reason,  and  1 
must  maintain  a  cruel  warfare,  that  the  devil  may  not 
gain  advantage  over  me.  .  .  .  Nothing  remains,  but 
that  I  beseech  you  that,  as  a  man  of  strong  mind,  you 
would  comfort  my  mother ;  and  I  beg  her  and  you  to 
bestow  your  blessing  upon  me,  and  I  will  ever  pray  for 
your  souls." 

With  those  words  Savonarola  bade  farewell  to  his 
father's  house  and  to  the  associations  of  his  youth. 


CHAPTEK  III 

Monastic  Life  at  Bologna 

Savonarola  was  in  his  twenty -third  year  when  he 
passed  within  the  gates  of  the  convent  of  St.  Dominic 
at  Bologna  and  took  upon  him  the  monastic  vows. 
His  choice  of  a  refuse  among  the  DominicasLfriars  was 
chieiy'^^etermined^no  doubt^b^hJH  lt7Y^  for  TJinrnga 
Aq^ijias.  wl^o  t^a'-d  'fit^^^!  rri3[Tngnishp.d.jaynament  of 
that  order.  In  applying  for  entrance  he  made  no  pre- 
tensions to  peculiar  sanctity,  but  with  deepest  humility 
asked  only  to  be  received  as  a  lay  brother,  and  to  be 
permitted  to  perform  the  most  menial  duties — to  work 
in  the  garden,  make  clothes  for  the  monks,  or  discharge 
the  domestic  services  required  by  the  brethren.  The 
special  attraction  which  the  retirement  of  the  monastic 
life  might  be  supposed  to  have  for  him,  as  offering  an 
opportunity  of  indulging  his  intellectual  tastes  and 
pursuing  his  favourite  studies,  did  not,  at  the  outset  at 
least,  exercise  much  influence  over  his  mind.  Hisjine 
TnQQWijjrr  dn^iT^  "^^^8^  tiO  e«^«p^  froTTi  thft  dipitr^^^^^^« 
and  iniquities  of  the  world,  do  penance  for  his  sins,  and 
devote  himself  to  quiet  communion  with  God. 

And  soon  the  sincerity  of  his  purpose  was  manifest 
in  the  austere  habits  he  practised  within  the  convent 
walls.   He  was  conscientiously  strict  in  rendering  obedi- 

21 


2  2  SAVONAROLA 

ence  to  his  superiors  and  to  the  rules  of  the  order.  His 
fasts  were  severe,  his  vigils  of  prayer  long  and  fre- 
quently renewed ;  and  to  his  companions,  Fra  Girolamo, 
with  his  spare  figure,  worn  to  a  shadow  by  rigid  self- 
mortifications,  appeared  like  a  ghost  moving  about  in 
their  midst.  He  ate  only  enough  to  sustain  life.  His 
garments  were  of  the  coarsest  kind,  though  always 
scrupulously  clean.  His  bed  was  a  sack  of  straw  laid 
on  roughly  crossed  pieces  of  wood,  and  its  only  cover- 
ing a  blanket  of  wool,  ^y  such  austerities  he  sought 
to  calm  his  soul  and  rise  into  closer  fellowship  with 
the  Divine  mind  and  wily 

Speedily  enough,  however,  he  discovered  that,  though 
the  pursuits  of  the  world  had  been  relinquished,  the 
spirit  ot'  the  world  had  not  been  e^scaped!  Jmbition 
and  selfishness,  he  found,  were  little  less  actively  at 
work  under  monkish  hoods  and  amid  monastic  seclu- 
sion than  in  the  busy  haunts  of  men,  and  the  aims 
cherished  there  were  neither  so  pure  nor  so  lofty  as 
he  had  fondly  dreamed.  Disappointing,  too,  was  the 
revelation,  which  ere  long  dawned  upon  him,  of  the 
corruption  that  festered  behind  the  imposing  stateli- 
ness  of  ecclesiastical  life.  For,  admitted  now,  as  he 
was,  within  the  cloisters,  he  saw  the  religious  world 

fTHnmJ.fiP.  'im.fiidp.^  anrl.  wa.a  shnf>Vprl  rwA   vp.yerTby  what 

he  beheld.  More  fully  than  ever  he  became  aware  of 
the  gross  scandals  and  abuses  of  the  Church — of  the 
intrigues  of  cardinals  and  prelates  for  place  and 
power,  of  the  bribes  offered  and  taken  for  dignities 
and  preferment,  of  the  immoralities  practised  even  at 
Rome  itself,  and  of  the  infamous  avarice  and  un- 
scrupulousness  of  the  reigning  Pope,  Sixtus  iv. — a 
man  whose  low  and  grasping  ways  contributed  to  the 


MONASTIC  LIFE  AT  BOLOGNA         23 

degradation  of  the  Papacy  to  a  degree  which  was 
productive  of  endless  evil  in  his  own  time  and  long 
after  he  had  gone.  Such  flagrant  iniquities  in  the 
sacred  province  of  religion  moved  the  depths  of  Fra 
Girolamo's  righteous  soul,  and  within  a  year  of  his 
entrance  into  the  convent  he  wrote  a  poem,  "  De  Ruina 
Ecclesiae,"  in  which  his  holy  anger  flashed  forth.  The 
poem  is  full  of  symbolism  and  brilliant  imagery. 
Savonarola  describes  the  Church  as  appearing  to  him 
in  the  guise  of  a  chaste  and  venerable  virgin,  and  from 
her  forlorn,  dishevelled  aspect  he  is  prompted  to  ex- 
claim. Where  are  the  precious  stones  and  the  fine 
diamonds,  where  the  burning  lamps  of  faith,  the 
beautiful  sapphires,  the  white  robes  of  purity,  the 
sweet  chaunts  of  devotion  of  former  days  ?  And  when 
he  asks,  Who  it  is  that  has  thus  dethroned  her  and 
marred  her  peace  ?  she  tells  him  that  her  place  has 
been  invaded  by  "  a  false,  proud  harlot,"  and  that  she 
has  been  driven  to  seek  shelter  in  a  poor  cave,  where 
she  leads  her  sad  life  with  many  a  tear.  Then  she 
takes  him  to  her  lonely  refuge,  and  shows  him  the 
wounds  from  which  she  is  suffering,  until  his  heart  is 
fired  with  indignation,  and  he  bursts  out  in  a  passion- 
ate yearning  to  shatter  and  beat  down  the  horrible 
system  of  wrong :  "  O  God,  lady,  that  I  could  break 
those  great  wings ! "  But  the  only  reply  he  receives 
is,  that  mortal  tongue  must  not  speak  of  it,  nor  is  it 
allowed  to  take  up  arms :  "  Weep  and  be  silent,  for 
this  is  best." 

He  did  keep  silent,  restraining  himself  with  diffi- 
culty from  delivering  the  vehement  protest  to  which 
he  felt  inwardly  impelled.  New  work  was  given  him 
which  served  to  occupy  his  time,  and  in  a  measure  also 


24  SAVONAROLA 

to  divert  his  thoughts.  He  was  raised  above  the 
position  of  a  mere  lay  brother,  for  which  at  first  he 
had  so  humbly  craved.  For  his  superiors  in  the 
convent  were  not  long  in  discovering  that  they  had 
a  scholar  of  exceptional  learning^  and  ability  in  their 
midst,  and  they  resolved  to  turn  his  gifts  to  account 
in  a  higher  form  of  usefulness  than  that  in  which  he 
had  requested  to  be  employed.  He  was  called  upon 
to  undertake  the  duty  of  teaching  the  novices  and 
superintendmg  tkeir  studies  in  ^hilosoph^_and  theo- 
logy.  The  task  was  one  which  he  accepted  with 
reluctance.  It  threw  him  back  once  more  amid  the 
arid  subtleties  and  dialectics  of  the  Schoolmen — "  from 
the  Aristotle  of  the  world  to  the  Aristotle  of  the 
cloister ; "  it  interfered  with  the  leisure  for  retirement 
and  devotion  which  he  had  hoped  to  enjoy,  while  it 
disappointed  the  craving  of  his  spirit  for  contact  with 
living  truth  and  Divine  realities;  and  hence,  though 
he  yielded  a  due  obedience,  his  h^ait  secretly  rebelled. 
Gradually,  however,  he  secured  time  for  the  studies 
more  congenial  to  his  bent  and  taste.  His  old  favourite, 
Thomas  Aquinas,  he  never  abandoned.  He  also  re- 
sumed his  acquaintance  with  Plato.  Though  swayed 
by  ideals  higher  than  those  of  the  Humanists,  his 
intellectual  interest,  which  could  not  be  suppressed, 
made  him  susceptible  to  the  attractions  of  the  re- 
covered Greek  literature  which  the  Humanists  so 
ardently  extolled,  and  on  the  knowledge  of  which  they 
set  so  great  a  value.  And  in  reading  the  Dialogues 
of  Plato,  with  their  imaginative  glow  and  mystic 
depths  and  heights,  he  felt  himself  in  contact  with  a 
rich  and  superbly  endowed  mind.  His  own  mind  was 
fertilised  and  stimulated;  and  he  made  some  efibrts 


MONASTIC  LIFE  AT  BOLOGNA         25 

to  employ  his  literary  powers  on  the  themes  which 
the  great  Greek  thinker  discussed.  The  attempt, 
however,  was  ultimately  relinquished,  after  his  view 
of  the  practical  worth  of  such  studies  underwent  a 
change.  There  grew  on  him  more  and  more  a  feeling 
of  the  vanity  of  all  mere  human  speculation — a  feeling 
that  found  expression  in  one  of  his  discourses  at  a 
later  date :  "  What  does  all  this  wisdom  of  philosophy 
serve  for,  if  a  poorold  w,(mimi,  ^-^^rlM^-^Jh^^i  in  tb^^- f^i^hi 
knows  more  of  the  true  wisdom  than  Plato?"  He 
turned  witli  ever-Increasing  relish  to  works  of  devo- 
tion like  those  of  Cassian  and  Augustine,  and  thus 
sought  to  feed  his  inner  life.  But  it  was  intji^ 
Holy^Scrr^tures  thathe^Aind  ..tjie^^moftti  satiisfying 
nourishmentlJ!s>r  the^^needs  _of,_his  hearty  He  is  said 
to  have  committedfTEe  whole  of  the  sacred  books  to 
memory,  thus  acquiring  a  mastery  of  biblical  ideas 
and  also  of  biblical  phraseology  which  furnished  him 
with  an  undoubted  source  of  power  in  his  work  in 
after  years.  The  Old  Testament  especially  attracted 
him.  He  revelled  in  its  bold  and  startling  imagery, 
its  vivid  and  stirring  appeals,  its  stern  denunciations 
of  sin,  its  awful  warnings  of  judgment  in  the  name 
of  a  Righteous  God ;  for  it  seemed  to  his  mind  that 
nothing  could  be  more  suited  to  the  needs  of  his  own 
time,  or  more  fitted  to  shake  the  evil  world  around 
him  and  arrest  the  wickedness  abounding  alike  in 
society,  Church,  and  State.  And  as  he  pondered 
ever  more  deeply  the  burning  words  of  the  ancient 
prophets,  his  soul  was  kindled  to  impassioned  fervour, 
till  often  he  felt  as  if  he  were  himself  inspired.  It 
was  then,  too,  that  he  began  the  practice  which  he 
carried  on  through  life,  of  making  notes  in  his  own 


26  SAVONAROLA 

minute  and  beautiful  handwriting  on  the  margins  of 
his  Bible  and  favourite  devotional  books. 

Thus  at  Bologna,  amid  steady  work  in  scholastic 
teaching,  varied  by  strict  vigils  of  prayer  and  reverent 
study  of  Scripture,  the  mind  and  soul  of  Fra  Girolamo 
unfolded  towards  maturity.  But  the  Dominican  ^breth- 
ren ;tvere  distinctively  a  p^f^flirhing  ^^^^^  ^^  ^^"^  one 
of  their  recognised  functions  to  rear  a  succession  of 
men  trained  to  stand  in  the  pulpit  and  administer 
religious  instruction  to  the  crowd  of  worshippers ;  and 
in  course  of  time  it  was  determined  to  employ  the 
talented  and  zealous  young  friar  in  this  department  of 
work.  Accordingly,  he  was  sent  to  visit  several  of  the 
convents  in  other  cities  of  Northern  Italy,  that  through 
them  he  might  obtain  opportunities  of  speaking  in  the 
churches.  It  was  thus  that  in  1481hewas_apppinted 
to  preach  at  Ferrara,  his  native  city.  He  went  there 
with  no  willing  mind7  for,  having  formed  an  austere 
conception  of  his  vocation  as  a  monk,  he  dreaded  any 
revival  of  the  associations  and  affections  of  former 
years.  Consequently,  he  held  but  little  intercourse 
with  his  own  family,  and  from  all  ordinary  acquaint- 
ances kept  entirely  aloof.  So  far  as  his  preaching  was 
concerned,  no  appreciable  impression  appears  to  have 
been  produced.  His  sermons  failed  to  tell, — partly,  it 
may  have  been,  because,  as  he  said,  quoting  the  words 
of  Christ,  "  no  man  is  a  prophet  in  his  own  country," 
or  perhaps  chiefly  because  he  was  yet  only  a  novice  in 
the  practice  of  public  speech.  He  could  touch  the  con- 
science with  marvellous  success  when  engaged  in  close 
personal  dealing  with  men,  as  in  the  case  specially 
recorded,  of  his  encounter  with  some  profane,  blas- 
pheming soldiers,  who  were  journeying  with  him  once 


MONASTIC  LIFE  AT  BOLOGNA         27 

in  a  boat  on  the  Po,  and  who  were  so  affected  by  his 
searching  remonstrances  and  appeals,  that  they  threw 
themselves  in  contrition  at  his  feet,  crying  for  absolu- 
tion. But  in  the  pulpit,  when  addressing  men  in  the 
mass,  he  had  not  yet  found  his  power. 

Meanwhile,  the  clouds  of  war  were  gathering  over 
the  land.  HQstilities  were  threatened  against  Fprrara. 
by ,^ie  Venetians,  on  the  one  hand,  and  on  the  other 
by  tope  t^^ixius  iv.,  who  saw  an  opportunity  of  fur- 
thering the  fortunes  of  his  family  and  securing  a  share 
of  the  spoil.  In  the  general  anxiety  which  prevailed, 
most  of  the  Dominican  monks  were  ordered  by  their 
Superior  to  retire  to  places  of  safety.  Savonarola  was 
instructed  to  proceed,  not  to  his  own  monastery  at 
Bologna,  with  which  he  had  been  connected  now  for 
well-nigh  seven  years,  but  to  the  convent  of  San 
Marco  at  Florence ;  and  to  Florence  accordingly  he 
went,  there  to  find  the  scene  of  the  real  distinctive 
work  of  his  life,  though  all  unaware  as  yet  of  the 
actual  form  which  that  work  would  assume,  and  little 
divining  the  brilliant  triumphs  which  would  attend  it, 
or  the  tragic  climax  to  which  it  would  lead. 


X 


CHAPTER    IV 

Florence,  San  Marco,  and  Lorenzo  de  Medici 

It  is  easy  to  imagine  the  glow  of  exhilaration  and 
hope  which  would  kindle  the  heart  of  the  young  friar 
as,  on  crossing  the  Apennines,  he  looked  down  on  the 
valley  of  the  Arno,  and  the  vision  of  Florence  with  its 
Cathedral  dome,  tall  towers,  gleaming  river,  and  stately 
array  of  buildings  and  bridges,  all  set  in  a  sunny  land- 
scape of  vineyards  and  olive-gardens,  burst  upon  his 
gaze;  for  then,  as  now,  Florence,  beheld  from  the 
slopes  of  the  Tuscan  hills,  must  have  been  a  ravishing 
sight.  He  had  left  Ferrara  saddened  by  profound 
sorrow  for  the  calamities  of  the  country,  but  the 
spectacle  of  that  fair  city,  where  nature  and  art  have 
combined  to  create  a  picture  of  super 6 "loveliness,  was 
surely!itted  in  some  measure  at  least  to  chase  away 
the  shadows  which  darkened  his  soul. 

There  was  much  also  in  the  convent  of  San  Marco 
which  might  be  expected  to  soothe  and  brigKten  his 
thoughts.  Relau]jL.-a^..g^neration  before,  through  the 
liberalit;^^ofjCQiaimo  de  Mftdicyfls  a  home  for  a  reformed 
community  of  Dominicans,  that  convent  had  been 
endowed  with  a  ]j^ra£;^^ofrarej^alue,  and  beautified 
by  the  works  of  the  Fra'  Beato  Angelico  which 
adorned  its  walls.      The  outer  cloister,  the   chapter- 


FLORENCE,  SAN   MARCO,  DE  MEDICI      29 

house,  the  very  cells  even,  all  shone  with  the  deli- 
cately coloured  frescoes,  still  quite  fresh,  of  the  pure 
and  sweet-souled  artist-monk,  who  often  painted  with 
the  tears  streaming  down  his  cheeks.  Those  frescoes 
themselves  possessed  a  peculiar  charm,  while  the  lofty 
conceptions  they  embodied  were  singularly  adapted  to 
minister  to  devotion  and  prayer. 

Moreover,  the  memory  of  the  first  Prior,  the^  good 
and  saintly  Antoriirio,  still  lingered  as  a  subtle,  ele- 
vating  lilfllitilicy  Jlbbiit  tTie  place.  Anfonmo  had  been 
the  patteriia^jgious  aspiration,  the  friend  of  reverent 
study,  the  apostle  of  cJiafity;  and  his  meek  spirit, 
active  benevolence,  and  love  of  all  that  was  noble 
and  pure,  had  left  its  impress  in  a  higher  standard 
of  thought  and  life.  Thus  San  Marco  had  become 
a  centre  of  attraction  for  the  more  learned  and  devout 
brothers  of  the  order,  and  for  many  men  of  distinc- 
tion who  sought  refreshment  for  their  spirit  in  the 
atmosphere  of  superior  refinement  and  earnestness 
which  breathed  around. 

Such  was  the  convent  within  which  Savonarola, 
on  coming  to  Florence,  took  up  his  abode.  And  out- 
side was  the  teemingcity,  with  its^  chatty,  shrewd, 
quick-witted,  energetic  people ; /Tts  gay,  sprightly, 
vigorous  1  if e ;  its  heavy-fronted  streets  ancT  massive, 
sofnBrr'''S(SLuai£e^^  "here  ■aTid  th^rFtj'y  exgutsite 

specimens    of    the   architecii^s,   sculptor'Sj or   bronze- 

designer's  art ;  its  imposing  churches  and  their 
hosts  of  priests ;  its  filled  handicrafts,  its  shops  and 
bustling  markets,  and  great  commercial  houses,  where 
a  flourishing^  trade  was  carriect  on;  and  over  all,  the 
pervasive,  masterful  rule  of  its  Medici  prince,  whose 
versatile  genius,  force  of  character,  and  astute  states- 


30  SAVONAROLA 

manship  made  him  one  of  the  foremost  figures  of 
his  time.  Savonarola  was  now  close  to  the  beat  of  a 
larger,  more  vivid  life  than  ever  he  had  yet  known. 

Gradually,  however,  as  he  looked  out  on  that  vivid 
life  from  the  cloistered  seclusion  of  San  Marco,  he 
began  to  perceive  much  that  was  calculated  to  cast  a 
shadow  once  more  over  his  naturally  brooding  mind. 
For  generations  Florence  enjoyed  the  rank  and  privi- 
leges of  a  free  republic,  but  since  the  days  when  the 
house  of  Medici  rose  to  power,  though  the  form  of  a 
republic  was  still  maintained,  the  frg^dom  wasprac- 
tically  gone.  The  first  stroke  was  dealt  By  Cosimo  de 
Medici,  who,  taking  advantage  of  internal  dissension, 
succeeded  by  an  adroit  use  of  his  vast  wealth  and 
popularity  in  working  himself  up  to  a  position  of 
supremacy,  nominating  the  regular  magistrates  and 
holding  the  control  of  the  State  in  his  own  hands.  Yet, 
in  spite  of  his  unscrupulous  ambition  and  the  merci- 
lessness  he  could  on  occasion  display,  it  must  be  said 
that  Cosimo  de  Medici  kept  a  firm  grasp  on  the  regard 
of  the  people  by  his  munificent  charity,  his  zeal  in 
beautifying  Florence,  and  his  liberality  in  promot- 
ing culture  and  all  branches  of  artistic  work.  He 
was  followed  by  his  son  Piero,  who  died  after  a  brief 
term  of  rule.  Then  came  the  famous  Lorenzo  de 
Medici,  whose  gifts  and  splendour  were  throwing  a 
glamour  over  Florence  and  all  Italy  when  Savonarola 
arrived. 

Like  his  grandfather  Cosimo,  Lorenzo  de  Medici  was 
borne  up  in  the  exercise  of  dictatorial  power  by  a 
strong  current  of  popular  favour.  He  was  brilliant, 
affable,  and  fnl]  of  wit,  and  the  very  dash  of  his  per- 
sonality drew  to  hint-an  immense  amount  of  admira- 


FLORENCE,  SAN   MARCO,  DE  MEDICI      31 

tion.  He  knew  how  to  humour  the  citizens  and  recon- 
cile them  to  the  loss "ot'  their  liberiy  by  frequent  shows, 
processions,  and  public  festivities,  and  by  the  profuse 
embellishment  of  the  city  with  buildings  in  which  they 
could  feel  a  sort  of  patriotic  pride.  He  was,  moreover, 
an  ardent  pajronof  learning  and  art.  Highly  cul- 
tured himself,  and  eager  to  encourage  every  type  of 
intellectual  ability,  he  gathered  round  him  a  constella- 
tion of  sp.hQlars  and  poets^  architects  and  painters, 
whose  reflected  beams  cast  a  radiance  round  his  head. 
Among  the  eminent  figures  in  that  brilliant  group  was 
Marsilio  Ficino,  the  head  of  the  Platonic  Academy, 
and  an  indefatigable  student  of  Plato's  writings,  who 
signalised  himself  by  his  endeavours  to  reconcile. the 
speculations  of  Greek  philosophy  with  the  docjjines  of 
the  Christiancreed.  Then  there  was  PicftJ^irandola,  the 
master  of  many  languages,  and  devqurer  of  aJiknow- 
ledge,  whose  versatile  gifts  and  manifold  acquirements 
made  him  a  wonder  to  his  contemporaries.  A  special 
favourite  was  Angelo  Poliziano,  the  most  accomplished 
scholar  of  his  day,  and  a  distinguished  teacher,  who 
drew  about  him  pupils  from  the  great  cities  of  Italy 
and  from  the  distant  parts  of  Europe,  and  who  was 
celebrated  also  for  his  elegant  poetry  and  epigrammatic 
wit.  There  was  also  Luigi  Pulci,  the  clever  satirist,  and 
author  of  the  famous  burlesque  II  Morgante  Maggiore, 
in  which  the  romances  of  mediaeval  chivalry  were 
parodied  with  remarkable  skill,  humour,  and  lively 
play  of  imaginative  invention.  Occasionally,  also,  a 
promising  genius  was  taken  into  the  palace,  and  kept 
and  provided  for  there  at  the  great  patron's  expense — 
a  privilege  which,  it  is  interesting  to  note,  the  young 
Michael  Angelo  was  actually  enjoying  at  that  very  date. 


32  SAVONAROLA 

The  presence  at  his  court  of  such  an  array  of  shining 
talent,  together  with  his  sagacity  as  a  statesman  and 
his^_dext£rous  management  of  public  affairs,  encircled 
the  name  of  Lorenzo  the  Magnificent  with  a  lustre 
unequalled  among  the  rulers  o7  that  age. 

But  the  spirit^jof^faction  and  envy  is  not  easily 
quelled,  andsome  years  before,  in  1478,  while 
Savonarola  was  still  at  Bologna,  the  life  of  Lorenzo 
had  JbeerL.s.ejdauJsly;>thrp.at<i^nnd„by  the,  i;^ot<priou^  Pazzi 
conspiracy.  The  Pazzi  were  an  influential  family  who 
secretly  plotted  to  undermine  the  Medici  rule.  They 
were  joined  in  the  plot  by  two  powerful  personages. 
Count  Riario,  a  nephew  of  the  Pope,  and  Archbishop 
Salviati  of  Pisa,  and  these  acted  the  principal  part  in 
devising  the  assassination  of  Lorenzo.  J^ppe. Sixtus 
IV.  was  cognisant  of  the  design,  and  expected  from 
Lorenzo's  downfall  a  substantial  aggcaaidisement,  to  his 
relatives,  but  he  was  careful  to  withhold  any  word  or 
signwhich  might  implicate  him  directly  in  the  deed  of 
murder  by  which  the  object  of  the  plot  was  to  be 
secured.  Thescene  of  the  crime  was  the  Cathedral  of 
I^orgjicOj^the^agei^rS^  the  celelDration  of 

the  Mass  when  the  members  of  the  Medici  court  were 
present,  and  the  signal  the  elevation  of  the  Host.  The 
priest's  hand  faltered,  and  the  dagger-thrust  missed  its 
mark.  Lorenzo's  brother. Giuliano  was  slain;  Lorenzo 
himself,  drawing  his  sword,  fought  his  way  to  the 
sacristy  and  escaped. 

That  menace  to  the  life  and  power  of  their  prince 
rallied  round  "him  the  sympathies  ^  of  ^tre~^eopre",  and 
corfFnFu^ed"~to~estabirsIi  Xorenzo  more  se"curely  in  his 
absolute  sway.  There  were  many  who  resented  in 
secret  the  curtailment  of  their  privileges,  and  writhed 


FLORENCE,  SAN  MARCO,  DE  MEDICI      33 

under  the  veiled  despotism  in  which  they  were  held ; 
but  the  great  body  of  the  citizens  contentedly  accepted 
the  despotism,  spellbound  by  the  glory  and  splendour 
of  Lorenzo's  state,  and  by  the  pleasure  and  prosperity 
that  seemed  to  be  associated  with  his  rule. 

The  splendour  and  prosperity  were  on  the  surface ; 
there  was  mopi^  deteriorating]  j^f^npafVi  In  architec- 
tural and  sculptured^dornment,  inteli^atuaLactivity, 
wide-awake  interest  in  learning  and  culture,  Florence 
stood  pvp-ATpinPTif  RTnnng  fhp.  piHp.ci  nf  that,  age.  There, 
in  all  the  different  forms  of  art,  the  Renaissance  had 
borne  its  richest  fruit,  as  the  unrivalled  works  of 
Giotto,  Botticelli,  Brunelleschi,  Bartolommeo,  Ghiberti, 
and  many  others,  existed  to  show.  There  also  in  other 
directions  the  most  brilliant  powers  of  the  human 
mind  had  reawakened  to  a  singular  degree  of  vigour 
and  life.  Florence  had  become  a  second  Athens,  but 
with  the  pagan  spirit  of  Athens  also  reproduced.  The 
Platonic  Academy  flourished;  scholarship  and  philo- 
sophy were  keenly  pursued;  yet  the  prevailing  tone 
of  society  was  dissolute  and  low — on  every  side  luxury 
and  extravagance,  levity  and  voluptuousness,  love  of 
pleasure  and  greed  of  gain.  And  as_for  religion, 
although  its  ceremonies  were  formally,  and  on  festival 
days  ostentatiously,  observed,  its  real  life,  itig  spiTntna-l 
a.spj rations,  were  p-one.  The  barren  speculations  of  the 
pulpit  and  the  too  manifest  worldliness  and  corruption 
of  the  leaders  of  the  Church,  had  robbed  it  of  all 
elevating  power  over  the  mass  of  the  population. 
Only  in  a  few  devout  souls  here  and  there  did  any 
living  faith  survive;  and  notwithstanding  all  its 
culture  and  beauty  and  restless  energy,  Florence  was 
fast  degenerating  into  a  scene  of  glittering  godlessness. 
3 


34  SAVONAROLA 

Lorenzo's  exain^^servedtojosterjh^ 
The  dissolute  orgies  in  which  he  frequently  indulged, 
and  the  ribald  sorigs  he  composed  for  general  use  at 
the  CarnivaPseason,  polished  in  style  but  coarse  and 
obscene  in  sentiment,  tended  still  further  to  encourage 
the  debased  tendencies  of  the  popular  mind.  It  was 
no  uncommon  occurrence  for  him,  after  a  day  spent 
in  public  business,  and  a  few  hours  of  discussion  on 
high  themes  at  the  Platonic  Academy,  to  sally  forth  at 
night  into  the  city  at  the  head  of  a  band  of  revellers, 
to  sing  his  "  Canti  Carnascialeschi,"  and  to  take  part 
in  vicious  excesses. 

This  Rprjx>n.gi  jnoral  degeneracy  at  work  underneath 
the  flaishir>g  mnt^n'Rl  TTiarnificence  soon  struck  the  eye 
and  heart  of  Fra  Girolamo,  as  he  watched  the  vivid 
life  of  the  city  from  his  quiet  retreat  at  San  Marco. 
He  had  duties  to  discharge  in  the  convent,  however, 
which  largely  occupied  his  time  and  energies ;  for  here, 
as  at  Bologna,  the  training  of  the  novices  was  en- 
trusted to  his  care,  and  he  gave  himself  to  the  work 
with  a  self-devotion  and  power  which  in  a  brief  space 
arrested  attention.  Coming  before  his  students  some- 
times in  a  sort  of  seraphic  ecstasy,  or  sometimes  with 
his  eyes  bathed  in  tears,  he  sought  to  stir  their  en- 
thusiasm in  the  study  of  the  Scriptures,  and  woke  in 
them  towards  himself  an  admiration  which  was  strongly 
tinged  with  reverence. 

In  a  few  months  he  was  appointed  to  preach  the 
Lenten  sermons  in  the  church  of  San  Lorenzo;  but 
this  first  attempt  in  the  pulpit  at  Florence  in  1482 
was  an  utter  failure.  He  was  burning  with  ardour  to 
convert  the  world  and  renew  the  lives  of  men,  but^is 
precipitate  manner,  jifiT-Rh  vmVp^  py^d  awkward  p^estures 


FLORENCE,  SAN  MARCO,  DE  MEDICI      35 

were  all^jgainst  him.  He  was  lacking^in  the  graces  of 
opjtoi^.;  his  ideas  were  too  fine  and  elevated  Tor  the 
popular  taste ;  and  his  denunciations  of  vice  met  with 
no  sympathetic  response.  The  audience  fell  away, 
until  at  the  end  of  the  course  there  were  only  twenty- 
five  persons  left  to  listen  to  him.  At  that  time  the 
pulpit-favourite  of  the  Florentine  public  was  Mariano 
da  Gennazzano,  a  preaching  monk  of  Jis-Aliguatinian 
order,  -who  delighted  the  votaries  of  the  New  Learn- 
ing by  quotations  from  their  much-vaunted  classical 
authors,  and  whose  musical  voice,  harmonious  cadences, 
grand  sentences,  and  rhetorical  pauses,  according  to 
the  description  of  Poliziano,  had  a  captivating  effect 
on  the  ear.  Mariano  was  a  distinguished  specimen  of 
the  fashionable  preachers  of  the  day,  skilful  in  suiting 
himselLto  the  tfl.st(^a  of  rank  anrl  o.nlturR  and  lulling 
rather  than  rousing  the  consciences  of  men.  In  com- 
parison with  such  an  orator,  Savonarola,  with  his 
austere  doctrine  and  clumsy  delivery,  was  regarded  as 
flat  and  tame. 

The  failure  was  a  severe  disappointment;  and  so 
acutely  was  he  pained  by  it,  that,  as  one  of  his  early 
biographers  states,  he  resolved  to  renounce  the  work 
of  preaching  for  ever.  He  retired  to  his  duties  of 
Bible  instruction  in  the  convent,  and  was  thus  quietly 
engaged  when  a  summons  came  which  furnished  an 
opportunity  of  revealing  his  capacity  and  force  of 
character  in  a  way  no  longer  possible  to  ignore. 


/ 


CHAPTER  V    ^ 

The  Leap  into  Fame 

The  summons  which  called  Fra  Girolamo  away  from 
his  quiet  work  among  the  novices  at  San  Marco  was 
a  comniEtjid  from  his  superiors  to  attend  a  Chapter- 
General  of  the  Lombard  Dominicans  to  be  held  in  the 
city  01  Reg^io.  This  was  a  gathering  at  which  not 
only  a  large  number  of  d  i  sti  n  g-u i  sh  ed  9.o.(^^  psi  a  st i p.s  and 
theologians,  but  also  many  laymen  of  note  in  the  world 
of  letters,  were  assembled.  It  is  not  easy  to  discover 
with  any  clearness  the  part  which  Savonarola  took 
in  the  proceedings  of  the  Chapter ;  all  that  can  be 
definitely  ascertained  is,  that  by  the  appearances  he 
made  in  its  discussions  the  hitherto  obscure  monk  of 
San  Marco  was  lifted  at  once  into  notice  as  a  man  of 
unusual  promise,  certain  to  be  heard  of  again.  Among 
those  present  who  were  particularly  impressed  by  the 
conspicuous  ability  he  displayed,  was  the  youthful 
Count  Pico  della  Mirandola,  already  mentioned  as  one 
of  the  favourites  at  the  Medici  court.  This  gifted 
man,  with  his  gracious  bearing,  fair  and  open  counte- 
nance, and  long  golden  hair  waving  down  on  his 
shoulders,  excited  admiration  wherever  he  appeared. 
He  Ji^d  beauty  and  ^f\7^T^„  ffjii^'^  pnd  t-iVIiah  He  had 
visited  the  most  renowned  universities  of  France  and 

36 


THE  LEAP  INTO  FAME  37 

Italy,  and  gathered  knowledge  from  ever^/^^source. 
His  /'^^r'^Tld  "^f^  F'^ny  tongiies— Ure^Tr"^d  Jjatin. 
Syriac,  Hebrew,  and  Chaldee;  his  wide  acquaintance 
with  plnlosophy  and  science,  his  marvellous  mem ory 
and  versatility  ot  mind — had  raised  him  to  celebrity  as 
a 'prodigy  oi:  learning:  xnis  brilliant  genius  was*irre- 
sistibly  attracted  towards  Savonarola,  and  the  friendly 
interest  thus  awakened  led  the  Count  at  a  later  date 
to  use  his  influence  with  Lorenzo  de  Medici  in  bring- 
ing about  the  recall  of  the  friar  to  Florence  after  an 
absence  of  several  years. 

The  Ch^4it^;;^ener2l_at_Keggia^^ 
and^avonarola  returned  from  Jt_to^  San  Jlaj-co  not 
only  a  marked  man  among  the  ecclesiastics  of  Lom- 
bardy,  but  a  man  in  whose  breast  the  conviction  of  a 
Divine  mission  was  beginning  to  dawn.  He  took  up 
once  more  his  work  among  the  novices;  yet,  as  he 
looked  out  on  the  sins  and  follies  of  the  city  around 
him,  and  on  the  too  patent  scandals  still  rife  in  the 
Church,  and  as  he  brooded  and  prayed  in  his  cell,  he 
felt  rising  within  the  conviction  of  a  great  task,  to 
which,  by  his  growing  sense  of  power  and  by  the 
righteous  fervour  of  his  heart,  he  seemed  to  be  called. 
There  is  truth  in  Lowell's  words — 

"  Souls  destined  to  o'erleap  the  vulgar  lot, 
And  mould  the  world  unto  tla(^-  sr-liemp.  of  God. 
Have  a  fore-consciousness  of  their  high  doom." 

And  Savonarola  had  become  aware  of  a  secret  pro- 
ph^ticLinatinct,  pointing  to  some  peculiar  and  sacred 
work  for  which  he  was  marked  out  in  the  designs  of 
the  Most  High. 

Strange   visions  came  to  him  in  his   lonely   vigils 


38  SAVONAROLA 

of  contemplation  and  prayer.  The  calamities  that 
threa|,p,Tifid  tbfi  .Ch.u.rijj  ...passed,- Ja^fore  his  "gaze ;  he 
heard  voices  urging  him  to  announce  the  coming  perils 
and  to  rouse  men  to  repentance  and  faith.  It  was  two 
years,  however,  ere  the  way  was  opened  for  the  delivery 
of  his  message.  Iij.  ,148^  he  was  sent  to  the  town  of 
San  Gemignano,  among  the  hills  of  Siena,  where  a 
people  as  yet'  lihcorrupted  by  the  loose  vices  of  the 
time  lived,  surrounded  by  beautiful  churches,  tall 
towers,  and  many  monuments  of  mediaeval  art.  There 
for  the  first  time  he  ventured  to  unfold  his  prophetic 
programme,  and  put  forth  the  three  propositions  which 
were  to  i'orm  the  burden  of  his  preaching  all  through 
life : — (1)  that  the  Church  y^il]  |)h  iTiOlirffT^^  ;  (2)  that 
it  will  afterwards  be  regenerated;  (3)  that  this  will 
come  to  pass  soon.  These  points  he  enforced  by  con- 
stant reference  to  Scripture,  drawing  particularly  from 
the  Old  Testament  startling  illustrations  of  the  Divine 
judgments  which  the  evils  of  society  and  the  abuses 
of  religion  must  inevitably  incur. 

Circumstances  had  transpired  at  Rome  which  lent 
additional  force  to  his  conviction  that  some  such  judg- 
ment w^as  near.  Sixtua.  ly.  had  died,  and  it  was 
notorious  that  Innocent  viii.,  his  successor,  had  owed 
his  election  to  fraud  and  bribery.  Instead  of  the 
Papal  Court  being  cleansed,  as  many  hoped  it  might 
be,  the  pollution  had  become  worse  than  ever.  The 
new  Pope  had  sons  of  his  own,  whose  advancement 
he  schemed  for  with  unblushing  effrontery,  while  the 
ecclesiastics  whom  he  drew  around  himself  and  raised 
to  the  chief  dignities  were  a  set  of  corrupt  men  whose 
vices  were  an  open  scandal ;  and  by  such  a  pernicious 
example  at  the  very  centre  of  Christendom,  encourage- 


THE  LEAP  INTO  FAME  39 

merit  was  given  to  the  already  too  profligate  tendencies 
of  the  highly-placed  and  the  wealthy  throughout  the 
country. 

With  all  this  in  view,  Savonarola  was  possessed  with 
the  certainty  of  coming  disaster,  and  he  felt  himself 
divinely  impelled  to  declare  it.  The  assurance  of 
having  a  definite  message  gave  point  to  his  style  and 
freedom  to  his  utterance  to  a  degree  never  experienced 
before.  His  hearers  were  visibly  affected ;  and  in  the 
consciousness  of  having  wakened  in  other  minds  a  thrill 
of  sympathy  with  his  own,  he  gained  encouragement 
and  strength. 

It  was  at  Brescia,  however,  where  he  was  appointed 
to  preach  in  4^86,  that  the  long-struggling  passion  and 
energy  of  his  soul  burst  out  with  unmistakable  force. 
The  Apocalypse  of  John,  which  he  chose  as  his  subject, 
afforded  ample  scope  for  uttering  the  thoughts  which 
had  smouldered  in  his  breast  for  years.  The  burning 
words  which  poured  from  him,  denouncing  sin  and 
urg^iujo;  repentance,  pierced  men's  consciences^n^'^ook 
them  out  of  their  stolid  indiflference.  The  crowd  round 
his  pulpit  grew  'larger  and  larger ;  and  the  people  were 
awestruck  when  one  day  he  described  the  four-and- 
twenty  elders,  and  pictured  one  of  them  as  rising  up  to 
declare  the  terrible  doom  which  awaited  Italy,  and 
especially  the  city  of  Brescia,  when  blood  would  run  in 
the  streets,  and  fathers  and  mothers  would  see  their 
children  massacred  before  their  eyes,  and  all  would  be 
slaughter  and  ruin — a  prediction  which  was  verified 
some  years  afterwards  in  the  storming  of  the  city  by 
the  French.  The  effect  of  this  startling  picture  and 
style  of  discourse  was  immensely  heightened  by  the 
statement  made  by  one  of  his  companions,  that  the  Fra 


40  SAVONAROLA 

Girolamo  had  stood  in  an  ecstasy  for  five  hours,  with 
his  face  shining  so  as  to  illuminate  the  whole  church 
where  he  was. 

The  preaching  was  a  failure  no  longer.  Its  prophet- 
like fervour  and  inspiration  awoke  an  enthusiasm  of 
admiration  and  wonder,  and  his  fa^e  spread.  Savon- 
arola at  last  had  found  his  power.  He  could  use  the 
pulpit  as  a  vantage-ground  from  which  to  reach  and 
move  the  hearts  of  men  in  the  name  of  his  Divine 
Lord  and  Master.  All  that  he  had  now  to  wait  for 
was  a  sphere  sufficiently  large  and  sufficiently  central 
for  the  effective  exercise  of  his  gifts  in  stemming  the 
tide  of  ungodliness. 

From  Brescia,  where  he  appears  to  have  spent  a 
considerable  time,  the  .^jiithoritiesjof  his^der  directed 
him  to  pass  on  to  other  cities.  It  is  impossible  to  trace 
jpynis  movements  iii  "detail,  but  for  fully  four  years  he 
^^  was  kept  employed  in  various  parts  of  Nortlbern  Italy. 
In  several  respects  this  preaching  tour  was  of  great 
value:  it  afforded  him  abundant  practice  in  public 
speaking ;  it  gave  him  experience  in  dealing  with  men 
in  the  mass,  and  in  handling  religious  questions  in  such 
a  way  as  to  appeal  to  the  popular  interest  and  intelli- 
gence ;  and  thus  it  helped  him  to  acquire  confidence  in 
his  own  ability  to  render  some  real  spiritual  service  to 
his  generation.  In  the  later  stages  of  the  tour  we  find 
him  at  Pavia,  where,  on  the  eve  of  leaving  for  Genoa, 
he  wrote  a  letter  to  his  mother,  throbbing  with  the 
warm  tenderness  of  a  still  unquenched  natural  affection, 
and  at  the  same  time  revealing  the  consecrated  spirit 
that  animated  him  in  his  work.  "  Be  assured,"  he  said, 
"  that  I  am  more  determined  than  ever  to  devote  body 
and  soul  and  all  the  knowledge  which  God  has  given 


THE  LEAP  INTO  FAME  41 

me,  for  the  love  of  Him,  to  the  good  of  my  neighbour ; 
and  since  I  cannot  do  it  at  home,  I  will  do  it  abroad." 
In  the  spirit  thus  expressed  he  was  still  labouring,  when 
he  received  a  message  calling  him  back  unexpectedly 
to  his  old  place  in  the  convent  of  San  Marco. 


/ 


CHAPTER   VI 

Florence  again — The  Mission  Found, 
AND  THE  Sphere 

Count  Pico  della  Mirandola  had  not  lost  his  interest 
in  the  dark-faced  friar  whose  mental  power  and  high- 
toned  utterances  had  produced  a  profound  impression 
at  the  Chapter-General  at  Reggio  ;  and  as  the  fame  of 
the  pregiQbjftg.in.  the  nnrth^rn  r.ities  became  more  pro- 
nounced,  the  scholarly  noble  was  moved  to  urge  his 
friend  Lorenzo  de  Medici  to  secure  the  return  of  such 
a  man  as  an  ornament  to  his  city.  Lorenzo  agreed  to 
the  proposal ;  the  Prior  of  San  Marco  was  apprised  of 
his  wish,  and  issued  the  order  required.  So,  in  .1489, 
Savonarola  was  recalfed  to.  Florence ;  and  from  that 
date  he  advanced  with  steady,  rapid  strides  to  all  that 
was  most  marvellous  and  masterful  as  well  as  most 
pathetic  in  his  career. 

In  great  weakness  of  body  he  took  his  weary  journey 
on  foot,  until,  utterly  breaking  down  under  the  heat, 
he  sank  helpless  by  the  roadside.  There  he  was  rescued 
by  a  stranger,  who,  according  to  the  legendary  embel- 
lishment of  the  story,  after  seeing  to  his  recovery  at 
the  nearest  inn  and  conducting  him  on  his  way  as  far 
as  the  San  Gallo  Gate,  suddenly  left  him,  with  the 

42 


THE  MISSION,  AND  THE  SPHERE     43 

parting  injunction,  "  Remember  to  do  that  for  which 
God  hath  sent  thee." 

He  had  indeed  come  back  to  Florence  with  a  sense 
of  his  Heaven-given  mission  strong  within  him.  When 
he  left  the  city  a  few  years  before,  it  was  with  a  pained 
disappointment  at  the  failure  of  his  efforts  to  touch  the 
public  conscience,  or  even  to  catch  the  public  ear.  Now, 
on  his  return,  he  was  aware  of  expanding  powers  in 
himself  and  of  high  expectations  in  the  minds  of  others 
regarding  him.  He  was  in  his  thirty-seventh  year,  in 
the  prime  of  his  age  and  of  his  intellectual  strength ; 
and  he  came  back  amid  the  old  scenes  with  all  the 
prestige  for  sanctity  and  eloquence  which  his  labours 
in  the  provinces  had  won. 

At  first  he  went  to  work  quietly  at  San  Marco,  and 
betook  himself  once  more  to  the  instruction  of  the 
novices.  Gradually,  however,  the  older  monks  gathered 
round  in  the  room  where  he  taught,  to  share  the 
stimulus  of  his  quickening  thought  and  flashes  of 
impassioned  speech.  Outsiders  also  were  attracted — 
men  of  learning  from  the  city,  eager  to  hear  the 
man  who  had  so  singularly  emerged  from  obscurity 
into  renown.  In  the  summer  of  1490,  during  a  course 
of  lectures  on  the  Apocalypse,  the  numbers  thus  press- 
ing in  were  so  large  that  it  was  found  necessary  to  re- 
sort to  the  convent  garden,  where,  day  after  day,  under 
a  tree  of  damask  roses,  and  surrounded  by  the  arched 
pillars  of  the  square  white  cloister  and  the  frescoes  of 
Angelico,  Fra  Girolamo,  with  one  hand  grasping  his 
book  and  the  other  stretched  on  high,  addressed  his 
strangely  mixed  audience,  and  poured  out  his  soul  on 
the  great  themes  that  possessed  him.  At  length  he 
was  besieged  by  entreaties  to  mount  the  pulpit  and 


44  SAVONAROLA 

make  a  more  public  appearance  as  a  preacher ;  and 
although  he  hesitated  for  a  time,  he  ultimately  announced 
that  on  the  next  Sunday  he  would  speak  in  church 
and  lecture,  adding,  as  one  of  his  earliest  biographers 
asserts,  "  And  I  shall  preach  for  eight  years," — the  very 
period  over  which  his  public  ministry  in  Florence 
actually  extended. 

Accordingly,  on  the  1st  of  August  1490,  Fra 
Girolamo  ascended  the  pulpit  t)i  tiie  conven^j  church  of 
San  Marco.  There  was  a  dense  throng  massed  together 
inTlie'Tiot  very  spacious  building.  The  excitement  and 
curiosity  were  so  keen  that  many  were  glad  to  obtain 
standing-room  anywhere,  and  even  to  cling  to  the 
railings,  if  only  they  might  see  the  face  and  hear  the 
voice  of  the  preacher  whom  a  few  years  before  they 
had  treated  wilh  chilling  indifferenceT^Ue  went  on 
with  tKe  exposition  of  the  Apocalypse  which  he  had 
begun  in  the  convent  garden  ;  and  here  again,  as  in  his 
preaching  tour  in  the  north,  he  laboured  to  develop  his 
three  famous  propositions,  with  a  growing  confidence 
and  a  kindling  fire  of  earnestness  which  kept  the  crowd 
week  after  week  aroused  and  riveted.  It  was  ever 
the  saine  message — the  Church  is  r.nrmpt  unto  its  very 
core :  its  rentr^.l  throne  even  is  rnfi.P.n  :  Italy,  the 
Paradise  of  earth,  has  become  a  spiritual  wilderness,  a 
land  of  idols  and  an  abomination  to  the  Lord ;  the 
Churcli  of  Italy  must  be  punished  in  order  to  be 
reformed. 

IFEe  interest  awakened  was  not  altogether  favour- 
able. His  hearers  were  divided.  Some  resented  his 
sharp  denunciations  and  reproofs ;  some  sneered  at  his 
gloomy  prophecies  of  evil ;  some  treated  his  visions  and 
revelations  as  either  a  hypocrisy  or  a  delusion ;  some 


THE  MISSION,  AND  THE  SPHERE     45 

had  no  sympathy  with  the  lofty  strain  of  feeling  in 
which  he  indulged ;  while  some  queiaiififlfidJiis.  title  to 
pose  so  authoritatively  as  the  moral  censor  of  the 
Church  and  of  society.  Yet  there  was  one  thing  which 
all  were  compelled  to  recognise,  and  that  was  the  blaze 
and  sweep  of  his  eloquence,  which  had  in  it  no  cunning 
tricks  or  studied  arts,  but  burst  forth  ever  and  anon 
with  a  spontaneous  rush  that  awed  the  listeners  into 
breathless  amazement.  It__was  a  style  of  preaching 
which  had  not  been  heard  for  many  a  day.  ~  jSl'otwith- 
stanc^ihg  occasional  intricacies  of  philosophical  in- 
genuity and  fanciful  allegorising,  it  was  cjiaaiacterised 
by  a  dash,  a  pungency,  an  incisiv^  dir^.ctn,ess_of  phrase, 
under  which  it  was  possible  for  no  audience  to  remain 
long  unmoved. 

When    the    Ti^nf.  |^f     MQ1     nair^f^     rnnn^j     ^^Q-t^rinaT-nlg 

received  a  summons  to  deljy^r  thn  pnurrr-nf  sermons 
for  the  season  in  the  Cathedral.  The  crowd  followed 
him  inTas"Eer~numbers  than  ever;  and  there,  in  that 
immense  sombre  building,  so  bare  and  yet  so  stately, 
with  its  "  dim  religious  light "  deepening  the  effect  of 
its  massive  simplicity,  the  friar  of  San  Marco  became 
at  once  a^^QJOOOJaaBt  ioxf^^in^JElamatine  affairs,  and 
began  the  work  which  has  earned  for  him  his  peculiar 
place  in  history.  For  in  gaining  access  to  the 
Cathedral  pulpit  Savonarola  had  reached  his  throne. 
From  that  pulpit  he  was  now  about  to^establish  a  sway 
over  Florence  which  would  rftviyp.  f,hf^  wariiPS  ^^^i^*^  of 
righteousness  and  liberty,  and  shake  to  its  foundations 
the  powerful  rule  of  the  Medici  itself.  The  monk 
preaching  in  the  Duomo  was  ere  long  to  be  the  law- 
giver of  the  city,  issuing  his  injunctions  in  the  name 
of  the  Most  High.      To  his  own  mind  by  this  time  his 


* 


46  SAVONAROLA 

vocation  had  become  thoroughly  clear ;  he^  was  to  work 
and  speak  for  the  reformation  o^  TriQi^fils  in  society, 
and  for'TEe  revival  of  spintual  life  and  purity  in  the 
Church.  And  here  at  last  were  both  the  sphere  and 
the  point  of  vantage  most  eminently  adapted  for  the 
fulfilment  of  such  a  mission, — the  sphere,  the  busy, 
cultured  city  which  was  the  commercial 
centre  ofTtaly — and  the  point  of  vantage,  his  un- 
questioned command  of  the  chief  pulpit  there. 

His  sermons  during  that  Lent  season  of  1491  struck 
the  keynote  of  his  few  years'  pulpit  sovereignty.  In 
bold,  thrilling  tones  he  launched  forth  against  the 
frivolity,  gambling,  and  impiety  of  the  citizens,  the 
pagan  tastes  and  learned  trifling  of  the  devotees  of  the 
ancient  philosophy,  the^yjces-  and  .tyranny  of  those  in 
power,  tKe  sTavish  subjectijQn_Q£  ihe.  masses,  and  the 
bad  lives  of  the  clergy.  He  threw  scorn  on  the  light 
supplied  by  the  pagan  literature  so  extravagantly 
praised,  and  declared  that  the  Scriptures  are  the  onl}^ 
trueguide  for  the  soul.  In  opposition  to  the  prevailing 
tendency  to  depend  on  external  works  and  ceremonies, 
he  maintained  that  salvation  comes  only  through  faith 
in  Jesus  Christ  and  the  surrender  of  the  heart  to  His 
grace.  Here  his  teaching  ran  on  much  the  same  lines 
as  those  afterwards  followed  by  Luther.  It  was,  how- 
ever, a  7Mral,not  a  rinpfrinfll,  rp.fnr]7]  -^yhlfh  h^  gfrt  him- 
self  specifically  to  labour  for.  He  accepted  the  dogmatic 
beliefs  of  the  Church,  and,  unlike  Luther,  felt  no  call 
to  attack  them.  His  one  definite  aim  was  to  effect  a 
practical  purification  of  the  Church  and  of  the  private 
and  public  life  of  the  people. 

The  anxiety  to  hear  the  new  preacher  in  the  Cathedral 
was  universal,  and  sometimes  the  excitement  rose  to  an 


THE  MISSION,  AND  THE  SPHERE     47 

extraordinary  pitch.  Men  and  women  crowded  round 
the  doors  in  the  early  morning,  and  then  thronged  in 
and  waited  for  hours  till  the  preacher  entered  the 
pulpit,  and  held  all  eyes  and  ears  intent.  There  he 
stood, — erect  and  easy  in  carriage,  not  tall,  but  well-knit 
and  finely-strung  in  frame;  his  monk's  cowl  slightly 
drawn  back  over  a  broad  forehead,  deeply  furrowed 
with  wrinkles  ;  his  sallow  face,  with  its  rugged  features, 
aquiline  nose,  large  mouth  and  thick,  firm  lips,  all  lit  up 
by  dark  lustrous  eyes  which  flashed  and  gleamed  at 
times  with  strange  fascinating  power.  His  jphysical 
endowments  were' by  no  means  attractive,  yet  when  he 
looked"  round,  with  his  sad,  wistful  smile,  and  raised  his 
deep-toned,  resonant  voice,  accompanied  by  a  simple 
gesture  of  his  long  and  almost  transparejat  hands,  the 
effect  was  irresistible.  He  spoke  outJ)d|^lyj^dJ^eely, 
and  as  he  warmed  with  his  theme  his  whole  counten- 
ance glowed.  Sometimes  his  accent  was  stem,  some- 
times tender  and  appealing ;  and  now  and  again,  when 
enlarging  on  the  Redeemer's  suffering  and  love,  he  would 
seize  the  crucifix  which  lay  by  his  side  and  kiss  it. 

Yet  while  the  crowd  flocked  to  listen  to  him  in  the 
Cathedral,  Savonarola  was  aware  that  his  solemn 
preciifitions  of  woe,  based,  as  he  believed  and  avowed, 
on  direct  revelations  of  the  Divine  will,  were  exciting 
a  1flrcrft^.Tn()^pf,  of  nnntradiction.  This  exercised  his 
mind  severely,  and  led  him  to  question  whether  he 
should  j:iot^  so  far  change  his  method  and  omit  all 
referen(;?e  tp  such^ subjects.  That  pause  of  hesitation, 
however,  was  forcibly  rebuked  in  the  way  he  after- 
wards described  in  his  work,  the  Compendiu7)i 
RevelationuTn.  "  I  remember  that  when  I  was 
preaching  in   the  Duomo  in   the  year   1491,   after   I 


48  SAVONAROLA 

had  composed  my  sermon  for  the  second  Sunday  in 
Lent  entirely  on  those  visions,  I  determined  to  suppress 
it,  and  never  in  the  future  to  touch  on  these  matters. 
But  Gr5^  is  my  witness  how  1  watchea^d  prayed  the 
whole  of  Saturday  and  throughout  the  night,  but 
could  see  no  other  course,  no  other  doctrine.  At  day- 
break, weary  and  dejected  by  the  long  hours  I  had 
lain  awake,  I  heard,  as  I  prayed,  a  voice  that  said  to 
me,  '  Fool,  dost  thou  not  see  that  it  is  God's  will  that 
thou  shouldst  continue  in  the  same  path  ? '  Where- 
fore I  preached  on  the  same  day  a  terrible  sermon." 

It  is  evident  that  the  strong  tinge  of  mystical 
enthusiasm  which  had  early  characterised  him  ^as 
beginning  to  colour  in  a  marked  degree  the  entire  tone 
of  Savonarola's  thinking  and  of  his  public  utterances. 
He  dreamed  himself  back  into  the  days  of  the  old 
Hebrew  prophets,  fancying  himself  favoured  by  a 
special  illumination  like  theirs.  The  pictures  of  the 
world's  future  and  of  things  unseen  on  which  he  was 
prone  to  dwell,  became  transformed  by  his  brooding 
imagination  into  vivid  and  present  realities  ;  and  they 
stood  before  his  mind  with  such  palpable  clearness  that 
he  V>p1iAVf^d  theiT]  \.n  be  verit^,b1ft  rf^velationg_  from 
Ej^avfiia.  This  was  a  source  of  strength,  and  yet  also  a 
source  of  weakness.  On  the  one  hand,  it  sustained 
him  in  that  assumption  of  prophetic  authority  which 
inspired  his  own  confidence  in  his  teaching,  and  made 
him  feel  that  he  was 

"The  chosen  trump  wherethrough 
Our  God  sent  forth  awakening  breath  ;" 

and  at  the  same  time  it  nfiigjitily  impressed  the  popular 
ear.     On  the   other  hand,  it  fostered  a  tendency  to 


THE  MISSION,  AND  THE  SPHERE     49 

extravagance  and  exaggeration  which  was  fraught 
witii  "many  dangers,  and  which  indeed  contributed 
largely  to  the  mistakes — well-meant,  but  none  the  less 
serious — that  brought  his  career  to  a  disastrous  end. 
He  had  inherited  some^fjbhe  superstitionsjqf  medi99val 
piety,  and  this  was  one  oOKem — a  ^elief^  in_direct 
visions  and  voices  from  the^^rituaLworld.  In  this  he 
was  the  child  of  the  immediately  preceding  ages,  and 
it  was  scarcely  to  be  expected  that  he  could  be  quite 
free  from  the  influences  which  had  moulded  religious 
life  and  feeling  for  many  generations  down  to  his  own. 
Still  the  massive  force  of  his  intellect  preserved 
Savonarola  from  the  worst  excesses  to  which  those 
mystical  fervours  might  otherwise  have  led.  Men  of 
culture  felt  as  they  listened  to  him  that  they  were 
in  presence  of  a  vigorous^  clear-seeing,  commanding 
mind.  His  impassioned  oratory  enthralled  them,  but 
his  mental  grasp  compelled  their  respect.  They  could 
perceive  that  while  he  denounced  the  exorbitant  value 
attached  to  classical  studies  am  t!he  teachings,  of  ancient 
philosophy,  he  was  kimself  tlioroughly.  versed  in  the 
very  learning  wnich  he  hfildJI)  HWh  ^^^'gh^  account.  His 
preaching  was  full  of  bold  and  striking  ingenuities,  and 
behind  it  was  a  wealth  of  knowledge  and  fulness  of 
intellectual  culture  that  could  not  be  concealed.  But 
the  Bible  was  his  supreme  book,  the  sole  authority  on 
matters  oTlbelief  and  cuiidUcITJ  and  he  expounded  it 
with  a  daring  and  skill  rarely  if  ever  surpassed.  In 
every  image,  parable,  or  figure,  in  every  historical  nar- 
rative even,  he  found  not  one,  but  many  meanings — 
meanings  heaped  upon  one  another  with  lavish  pro- 
fusion. He  was  rich  in  ^pintiilf?^  ^^(\  allegoricaLinter- 
pretations.  Here,  again,  Savonarola  was,  so  far,  the 
4 


50  SAVONAROLA 

child  of  his  age,  carrying  with  him  the  tendencies  to 
intellectual  t^U'btjlotjT  and  lainuto  aeoilyoio  derived  from 
the  scholastic  andpniiosophical  training  under  which 
he  had  been  reared.  Nevertneless,  so  intense  was  his 
moral  earnestness  and  so  great  the  native  force  of  his 
character,  that  he  rose  conspicuously  superior  to  the 
pedantry  and  intellectual  affectations  of  his  time.  His 
mental  activity  was  for  ever  asserting  for  itself  a  wider 
range.  Again  and  again  his  genius  burst  the  scholastic 
fetters,  and  struck  out  in  freer,  more  natural  methods 
of  dealing  with  truth ;  and  it  is  only  just  to  say  that 
by  his  breadth  of  view  in  discussing  great  vital  pro- 
blems, his  fearless  courage  in  facing  facts  and  grappling 
with  the  realities  of  things,  as  well  as  by  his  thorough- 
going directness  in  bringing  the  force  of  reason  and 
the  teachings  of  Scripture  to  bear  on  the  manifold 
questions  and  interests  of  human  life,  he  communicated 
to  his  generation  an  impulse  which  was  destined  to 
prepare  the  way  tor  the  forward  march  of  the  world. 
He  was,  m  f aCtr;  the  pioneer  of  a  new  age — -an  age  of 
fresher  and  larger  thought,  of  higher  aspiration  and 

endeavour,  of   orr^^.tftr  indppp.nrlftnp.p.  of   fntP.llApfnal  and 

TYiorR,!  ponviction — an  age  of  progress,  in  which  the 
pursuit  of  truth  and  the  struggle  for  human  well-being 
should  be  more  than  ever  inspired  by  the  passion  for 
liberty  and  by  a  rational  and  practical  spiritual  faith. 
Having  grown  up,  as  he  did,  amid,  the  vivid  intellectual 
activity  of^the^Renaissance,  he  j'nfi^gf^^^  into  it,  and 
blended  with  it,  a  force  of  moral  energy  and  purpose 
,>/>  not  inherent  in  the'  Renaissance  itself,  which  Elevated 


its  character,  expanded  its  scope,  and  gave  it  a  direc- 
tion calculated  to  sway  and  shape  the  advance  of  society 
at  large.     The  one  serjiius  dpi'ect  of  tlip.  Rf]^p.issfl.npp 


THE  MISSION,  AND  THE  SPHERE      51 

was  the  absence  of  an  uplifting  moral  ideal ;  and  it  was 
the  merit  "oi  SavonaroTa^Thar^e  ~  stipplied  that  want. 
He  planted  right  at  the  heart  of  the  great  literary  re- 
vival an  ideal  and  a  pure  moral  enthusiasm  fitted  to 
lead  it  on  to  higher  results,  and  to  charge  it  with 
power  to  stir  the  nobler  ambitions  and  instincts  of 
human  nature,  and  urge  men  forward  in  new  paths  of 
enterprise — intellectual,  social,  and  religious.  Thus 
he  was  the  precursor,  not  so  much  of  the  Protestant 
Reformation  itselt^,  as  of  that  wider,  :t'reer  movement 
of  the  hujnan  spirit  out  of  which  the  Protestant  Refor- 
mation  and  many  other  phfl,ngp«  hajjp^.  sprung  —  a 
herald  of  the  dawn  of  our  modern  civilisation. 


/ 


CHAPTEK   VII 

The  Monk  and  the  Magnifico 

Notwithstanding  the  irritation  excited  in  some  quar- 
ters by  his  first  Lent  sermons  in  the  Duomo,  Savonarola's 
power  and  success  were  so  undoubted  that  he  was  in- 
vited tQ.,p:£a/?h  bf?£Qre.jUia..SlgO>Qry — the  body  of '^Fef 
magistrates — in  the  Palazzo  Vecchio,  on  one  of  the  days 
in  Easter  Week.  He  i'elt  hiihself  rather  embarrassed 
in  addressing  so  specially  select  an  audience,  and  under 
the  necessity  of  being  more  polite  in  his  utterances, 
"  like  Christ,"  as  he  said,  "  in  the  house  of  the  Pharisee." 
Yet  he  contrived  to  speak  some  pointedLword§j;jn  the 
dutieS^jiL-rulers.  He  condemned  the  tyranny  which 
made  heavy  exactions  and  loved  flattery,  and  pro- 
nounced the  prince  to  be  responsible  for  the  evil  in 
his  city. 

Some  of  his  remarks  were  construed  into  significant 
allusions  to  Lorenzo  de,  Medici,  and  it  w^as  alleged  that 
Lorenzo,  on  hearing  of  the  sermon,  had  taken  offence. 
It  was  even  asserted  that  the  displeasure  felt  at  Court 
would  lead  to  the  preacher's  expulsion  from  Florence. 
We  find  a  reference  to  those  rumours  in  a  letter  written 
to  his  warmly  attached  friend,  Fra  Domenico  da  Pescia, 
one  of  the  San  Marco  brothers,  who  was  away  on  a 
preaching  mission.    Calling  to  mind  the  case  of  a  well- 

62 


THE  MONK  AND  THE  MAGNIFICO      53 

known  monk  who  had  been  sent  into  exile  a  few  years 
before  for  his  vehement  testimony  against  usury, 
Savonarola  said,  "Many  have  feared,  and  still  fear, 
that  that  will  be  done  to  me  which  was  done  to  Fra 
Bernardino."  Lorenzo,  however,  gave  no  manifest 
sign  of  disapprobation,  and,  whatever  the  leading  men 
around  him  may  have  suggested,  he  declined  as  yet  to 
interfere. 

Meanwhile  the  impression  of  Savonarola's  ability 
and  genius  was  growing,  and  in  July  of  that  same 
year,  1491,  he  was  elected  by  his  broilier-monks  as  the 
Prior  of  _Sjbh  Marco.  As  the  convent  had  been  rebuilt 
and'  enriched  by  the  house  of  Medici,  it  had  been  the 
cuj^om  fqr  f^he^  yiQ^v  Prinr  on  hiw  appoiT^toient  to  repair 
to  |I^^ ,  IVf^fifl i p.i  pf^.1  gp.e  and  render  some  sort  of  homage 
to  the  reigning  head  of  the  family.  Savonarola  was 
expected  to  conform  to  that  custom,  but  showed  no 
inclination  to  do  so.  The  older  friars  became  uneasy, 
and,  hurrying  to  his  cell,  remonstrated  with  him  on 
the  omission  of  what  seemed  to  them  an  important 
duty.  "  Who  named  me  to  be  Prior — God  or  Lorenzo  ? " 
he  asked.  "  Gad,"  was  the  answer.  "  Then,"  said  he, 
"  to  Him  aloqe  wij]^  I  give  thanks,  and  not.  tQ-moigJbal 
man."  Lorenzo,  when  told  of  this  speech,  merely  re- 
marked, "  A  stranger  has  taken  up  his  abode  in  my 
house,  and  will  not  deign  to  pay  me  a  visit."  The 
Magnifico  was  apparently  struck  with  the  lofty  inde- 
pendence of  a  mfm^oijsihoae,.e?;.ceptionaL gifts  he  was 
already^jiwarg,  and  his  fMirJQsj,t3^,_wRs  ?fWaikf?TiQd  to 
knoittU^teft- better.  Honouring  every  form  of  talent, 
and  eager  to  draw  all  that  was  distinguished  and  re- 
markable within  his  own  circle,  he  made  many  efforts 
to  conciliate  and  attract  the  brilliant  preacher.      If 


54  SAVONAROLA 

Savonarola  would  not  come  to  him,  he  would  go  to 
Savonarola.  He  went  repeatedly  to  San  Marco,  to 
hear  Mass  in  the  church,  and  afterwards  walked  in  the 
convent  garden.  Savonarola,  shut  up  in  his  cell,  en- 
gaged in  his  studies,  left  him  unheeded.  The  monks 
came  anxiously  to  tell  him  the  news,  "  Lorenzo  is  in 
the  garden."  "  Has  he  asked  for  me  ? "  was  the  inquiry. 
"  No."  "  Then,"  said  the  Prior,  turning  to  his  desk 
again,  "  if  he  does  not  ask  for  me,  let  him  go  or  stay  as 
he  will." 

It  would  appear  that  from  the  first  Savonarola  was 
conscious  of  a  fundamental  «^^\^'^r]1PTn  h^twe^i^  him- 
self pud  thft  fUnRfrinnH  Pri^pft  at  the  head  of  the  state. 
He  cannot  have  failed  to  recognise  the  uncommon  skill 
and  resourceful  ability  of  Lorenzo ;  yet  it  is  not  quite 
clear  that  he  had  an  adequate  comprehension  of 
Lorenzo's  large  and  varied  power,  his  splendid  intel- 
lectual capacity,  the  elements  of  real  genius  which  had 
won  for  him  his  wide  and  brilliant  renown.  Though 
studiously  avoiding  any  direct  exhibition  of  hostility, 
nevertheless,  there  is  reason  to  believe,  he  regarded 
Lorenzo  as  a  type  of  that  repressive  des;g^lisaQ~^^ainst 
whichjiis  jyhnlft  spnl  wfl.s  it),  ^Qjolt ;  and  also  as  an 
embodiment  of  that  bewitching  but  morally  pernicious 
pagan  spirit  which  all  the  purest  instincts  of  his 
nature  impelled  him  to  combat  and  arrest.  Hence 
the  rigid  austerity  of  his  demeanour  in  rejecting  the 
courtesies  of  one  whom  he  regarded  as  the  corrupter 
of  the  people's  morals  and  the  destroyer  of  their 
freedom.  Whether  he  might  not  ultimately  have 
gained  an  influence  for  good  over  Lorenzo's  mind  by 
a  manner  more  gracious,  is  open  to  question.  But 
feeling  nnnsfrair^^d   fr^  eof,  j^jpaplf  ng-ainst  the  entire 


THE  MONK  AND  THE  MAGNIFICO      55 

system  of  things  identified  with  what  he  believed  to 
be  Lorenzo's  unjust  and  demorahsing  rule,  he  was 
resolved  to  keep  clear  of  any  embarrassments  arising 
from  the  great  man's  patronage  or  friendship.  Lorenzo, 
on  his  part,  was  not  readily  discouraged  in  his  con- 
ciliatory advances.  He  sent  rich  presents  to  the 
convent,  and  on  one  occasion  dropped  a  number  of 
gold  pieces  into  the  alms-box.  When  the  box  was 
opened,  the  Prior,  convinced  that  they  had  been  placed 
there  by  Lorenzo,  laid  them  aside,  and  sent  them  to 
the  Guild  of  the  Good  Men  of  San  Martino,  to  be 
distributed  among  the  poor,  saying,  as  he  did  so, 
"  The  silver  and  copper  are  enough  for  us."  He 
was  not  ^oing  to  allow  himself  to  be  compromised  in 
his  wofk  for  God  by  any  seduction  of  bribes  and 
gifts.:  for,  as  he  remarked  in  his  sermon  a  few  days 
later,  a  faithful  dog  does  not  cease  barking  in  his 
master's  defence  because  a  bone  has  been  thrown  to 
him. 

Baffled  once  more,  Loceazo  began  to  take  alarm. 
He  had  hitherto  shown  a  wonderful  patience  and 
magnanimity,  but  at  last  he  realised  the  indomitable 
temper  of  the  preacher,  whose  influence  threatened  his 
prestige  and  power.  The  step  he  next  took  to  win 
him   into  complaisance  was  to  °^^d,/i  depn tpt^V^  of 

five  Jllfluentifl,]  AJfiVAng — r>nTnPTnVn  "Rnnoij  Onid'  Au- 
fnnin   yf^Pipi^r.^*,],  Panln    [^^nHpriTii     Fy-^j^pp.^/^^  ^<.1r^^^^     and 

"RArT^p|,l'dr>  "R.i^f>ft]1fl,i — on  a  special  visit  to  San  Marco. 
They  came  as  if  by  their  own  prompting,  to  urge 
Savonarola  to  moderate  his  tone  and  take  up  a  less 
severe  attitude  in  denouncing  aliuses  ;  and  they  dropped 
ominous  hints  as  to  the  risk  of  banishment  if  he 
should    continue    his  sweeping   charges   against   the 


56  SAVONAROLA 

existing  order  of  affairs  in  the  city.  The  composed 
and  resolute  bearing  with  which  Savonarola  met  the 
deputation  rather  disconcerted  them  in  delivering  their 
message.  For  a  message  it  was,  as  he  at  once  divined. 
They  were  acting  at  the  bidding  of  another,  he  plainly 
told  them,  and  not  of  their  own  accord ;  it  was  Lorenzo 
who  had  sent  them,  and  Lorenzo  should  be  enjoined 
to  repent  of  his  sins,  "  for  the  Lord  spares  no  one,  and 
fears  not  the  princes  of  the  earth."  And  as  for  the 
threat  of  banishment,  he  said,  "  I  fear  not  sentences 
of  banishmentj^for^jyiisjjiijC-Jit^^U^^  a  grain 

of^^!m  in  1^  earth.  Neve^t^eless^^tjiou^^  am  a 
strangfi^j^^  and7Koffi^aQ  ^  ^itiiTjfiU  .a^T^-'^^  first  in  the 
p.ity,  T  s}],f^,ll  ,c^t-iy  ^,WP'  T-a.m.  .ajid.  it  is-Jie  t.haf,  will 
d^iaxt."  Savonarola  was  deeply  moved  by  this  visit 
and  its  evident  design  to  terrorise  him  into  the  sup- 
pression of  his  convictions ;  it  confirmed  him  in  his 
determination  to  maintain  his  independence  at  what- 
ever  cosfc.  He  had  a~  strong  assurance  that  the  con- 
dition of  Florence  and  Italy  was  about  to  undergo  a 
change,  and  he  went  so  far  as  to  predict,  in  the 
presence  of  many  witnesses,  that  the  Magnifico  him- 
self, the  Pope,  and  the  King  of  Naples  were  all  soon 
to  come  to  their  end. 

Lorenzo,  mortified  by  the  unmistakable  repulse  he 
had  received,  now  resolved  to  use  more  decided  mea- 
sures for  the  subversion  of  an  influence  which,  he  felt, 
there  was  serious  reason  to  fear.  F^^uJ^riano  da 
Gennazzano,  the  polished  rhetorician,  by  whose  popu- 
larity Savonarola's  first  pulpit  efforts  were  eclipsed, 
had  for  some  time  retired  into  comparative  silence. 
From  the  seclusion  of  the  convent  of  San  Gallo,  which 
Lorenzo   had   built   for   him,   he   was   called   by    the 


THE  MONK  AND  THE  MAGNIFICO   57 

Magnifico  to  resume  his  preaching  and  to  confute  the 
prnphpj.f^,  prf^^^"'f1l'ons  ^^  ^-^e  rivaljEhn  haiH  supplanted 
him  in  the  Florentine  mind.  He  appeared  in  the  pulpit 
of  SanGallo,  and  discoursed  on  the  text,  "  It  is  not 
given  to  you  to  know  the  times  and  the  seasons  which 
the  Father  hath  put  in  His  own  power."  The  audience 
was  large  and  eagerly  expectant.  Lorenzo  was  present, 
along  with  a  numerous  company  of  his  literary  friends 
and  many  of  the  magnates  of  the  city.  But,  for  the 
object  intended,  the  result  was  a  failure.  Fra  Mariano, 
by  his  heat  of  temper  and  excessive  coarseness  of 
VI tn pfijT^i^ri'j  q vfty-ff jjrj^^ th p.  tti fljrk.  His  admirers  were 
shocked,  and  some  of  them  openly  turned  and  became 
followers  of  Savonarola,  while  to  Lorenzo  himself  the 
sermon  was  altogether  disappointing,  and  henceforth 
he  left  the  Prior  of  San  Marco  undisturbed. 

Savon^-ola  replied  QELJlxfi^J.oJiowiritf,  .Sunday  to 
Mariano's  attack^,  preaching  on  th^  same  text,  and 
defending  himself  with  vigour  against  the  charges  of 
extravagance  and  presumption  levelled  at  him  in 
Mariano's  discourse.  Ere  long,  however,  some  sort  of 
reconciliation  was  effected  between  the  two  preachers, 
and  at  the  invitation  of  Mariano  they  joined  in  cele- 
brating Mass  together  in  the  church  of  San  Gallo. 
Mariano  soon  after  received  an  appointment  at  Rome, 
where  at  a  later  date,  as  we  snail  hnd,  he  again  made 
himself  conspicuous  by  ill-designed  efforts  to  malign 
and  injure  his  old  rival  'iv'hen  bese-tr'  by-gathering 
trdii bles, ""  and  witir~darkness  and  with  dangers  com- 
passed round. 
jf  Sav9na.T-(;^1a,'s  snprPTnacy  in  thft  pnlpit,  pf  Flor^^^^ 
^was  now  undisputed.  Lorenzo,  despite  the  defeat  of 
his  attempts  to  win  over  or  to  subdue  him,  displayed 


58  SAVONAROLA 

a  large  measure  of  fo1p-rfl,ru?ft  and  allowed  him  to 
strengthen  his  hold  on  the  popular  regard.  In  a  few 
months,  however,  the  distinguished  Prince  was  struck 
down  by  a  disease  which  baffled  human  skill.  It  was 
in  the  spring  of  1492,  and  Lorenzo  the  Mag^nificent,  as 
yet  only  foriy-f^^]]-  yfar^  nf  ^grrf^  ir.  the  prime  of  life 
and  the  height  of  his  power,  lay  in  his  beautiful  villa 
at  Careggi,  among  the  olive-gardens,  pronounced  by 
the  doctors  to  be  near  his  end.  Then  Savonarola  was 
surprised  by  a  summons  to  attend  the  deathbed  of 
the  great  man.  Lorenzo  had  sent  for  him,  because, 
according  to  one  account,  he  wished  to  die  in  charity 
with  all  men ;  or  because,  according  to  another  account, 
he  was  racked  by  remorse  for  past  misdeeds,  and  al- 
though Holy  Communion  had  been  administered  by 
one  of  the  priests,  he  yet  desired  absolution  at  the 
hands  of  one  whom  he  declared  to  be  the  only  iionest 
"  religious "  whom  he  knew,  and  who  acted  up  to  his 
profession.  Savonarola  duly  appeared.  T^Jj^Jxiar  and 
the  Magnifico  had  never  met  before.  What  happened 
at  the  interview  it  is  difficult  precisely  to  ascertain. 
In  the  version  of  the  story  given  by  Pico  della  Miran- 
dola,  nephew  of  the  versatile  scholar  of  the  same 
name,  and  also  by  Burlamacchi,  it  is  stated  that 
when  Savonarola  came  into  the  dying  man's  presence, 
Lorenzo  mentioned  that  he  had  three  special  sins  to 
confess — the  sack  of  Volterrfl,,  the  plnr^^^v  r.^  r.t;^ 
Monte  (]el]e  Fanc^u\le  (an  institution  founded  for  the 
dowry  of  Florentine  maidens  who  had  been  deprived 
of  their  marriage  portions),  and  the  slaughter  of 
Florentine  citizens  after  the  Pazzi*cohspiracy.  I^avon- 
arola  consoled  him  during  these  confessions  by  re- 
peating,  "  God  is  merciful ;    God   is   merciful ; "    and 


THE  MONK  AND  THE  MAGNIFICO      59 

then,  when  Lorenzo  had  finished,  he  demanded  of  him 
three  things  before  absolution  could  be  given.  First, 
that,  he  should  have  a  living  faith  in  God's  mercy. 
LoreTftdJ  lyplied   that  lie  had   such  a  taithl — SfifiShd, 

that  he  should    rA.^nrft    Whe^    ^^    ^^^    nr^jnofly    o/>qTnVorl 

and  charge  his  sons  to  make  restitution.  Lorenzo, 
after  hesitating  a  moment,  signified  his  assent.  Then 
came  the  thjrd  stipulation.  Savonarola  drew  himself 
up  to  his  full  height,  and  said,  "  GiMfiJJjaCfijifie  back 
her  liberties."  Lorenzo  turned  his  face  to  the  wall 
and  uttered  not  a  word,  and  Savonarola  left  the  room 
withojit  granting  the  absolution  desired. 

There  is  considerable  ground  to  suspect  that  in 
describing  this  interview  the  biographers  of  Savon- 
arola, writing  some  years  after  his  death,  may  have 
been  moved  by  their  enthusiastic  admiration  for  their 
hero  to  give  an  exaggerated  colouring  to  the  actual 
facts.  It  is  hardly  to  be  supposed  that  one  in  the 
position  and  with  the  character  of  Savonarola  would 
violate  the  oath  of  secrecy  with  regard  to  a  deathbed 
confession.  It  is  indeed  doubtful  whether  Lorenzo, 
in  sending  for  him,  had  in  view  any  such  confession 
at  all.  He  had  already  confessed  to  the  priest  who 
administered  to  him  the  Holy  Communion,  and  there 
are  difficulties  in  the  way  of  supposing  that  he  wished 
to  make  another  confession.  The  account  g-iven  by 
Poliziano,  Lorenzo's  favourite  Court-companion,  is  less 
fly^,m?^,j-,i^^.  bui  m  many  respects  more  probafele.  It 
was  written  in  a  letter  only  a  few  weeks  after  the 
event.  According  to  Poliziano,  J^gv^r^aynla.  r^^]x|f>  pn|. 
to  hear  a  confession,  but  to  address  some  friendly 
counsels  to  the  dying  man.  He  admonished  him  to 
hold  firmly  to  the  faith,  which  Lorenzo  avowed  that 


6o  SAVONAROLA 

he  did.  He  exhorted  him  to  amend  his  _Iif e  if  he 
should  recover,  and  that  he  promised  diligently  to  do. 
Finally,  he  urged  him  to  meet  death,  if  it  came,  with 
resignation,  and  the  reply  was,  "  Nothing  would  please 
me  better,  should  it  be  God's  will."  Savonarola  then 
prepared  to  depart.  "  Give  me  your  blessing,  father, 
before  you  go,"  Lorenzo  asked ;  whereupon  Savonarola 
recited  the  prayers  for  the  dying,  in  which  Lorenzo 
with  bowed  head  and  pious  responses  earnestly  joined. 
This  description  of  the  occurrence,  which  is  simple 
and  jaaijiral,  presents  Savonarola  in  a  less  harsh  and 
irreconcilable  aspect  than  the  other ;  at  the  same  time 
it  brings  into  view,  with  an  air  of  truthfulness,  some 
of  the  better  qualities  which  still  undoubtedly  lingered 
in  Lorenzo's  strangely  complex  and  richly  endowed 
nature. 

So  the  two  notable  men  met  and  parted.  The  monk 
went  away  to  his  convent  and  to  his  work  in  the 
pulpit,  which  was  every  month  widening  before  him ; 
the  Magnifico  rapidly  sank,  and  died  on  the  8th  of 
April  1492,  "  leaving,  as  such  men  do,  the  deluge 
after  him." 


CHAPTER  VIII 
Changes  and  Prophecies  of  Change 

On  the  death  of  Lorenzo  de  Medici  his  son  Piero  came 
into  >jg(pwer.  He  was  gallant  and  comely  in  person, 
a  keen  athlete,  delighting  in  riding,  wrestling,  tennis, 
and  other  exercises  of  pbyaioal  okill;  yet,  though 
possessed  of  considerable  mental  ability,  the  new  ruler 
of  Florence  lacked  the  qualitip?^  pssfipt.ia.l  fp  the  wise 
manfikgemjent  of  men.  He  had  all  the  ambition  which 
characterised  Cosimo  and  Lorenzo,  but  was  entirely 
destitute  of  the  tact  and  statesmanlike  shrewdness 
which  had  lifted  them  to  success,  while  his  rudeness 
of  manner,  haughty  spirit,  and  violent  outbursts  of 
temper  were  a  constant  cause  of  offence.  Under  his 
leadership  Florence  soon  lost  its  proud  pre-eminence  and 
its  balancing  influence  in  Italian  affairs.  In  the  govern- 
ment of  the  city  itself  his  failure  was  equally  marked. 
Lorenzo  had  been  scrupulously  careful  to  preserve  the 
form  and  semblance  of  liberty,  even  though  depriving 
the  people  of  its  reality ;  Piero  had  no  patience  with 
such  a  policy,  and  even  the  form  of  liberty  he  rashly 
proceeded  to  destroy.  Instead  of  flattering  the  popular 
mind  by  keeping  up  the  appearance  of  being  the  first 
citizen  of  the  State,  and  therefore  one  with  the  Floren- 
tines themselves,  as  his  father  and  Cosimo  had  done. 


62  SAVONAROLA 

he  Hpf,PVTT>i|iPrl    in  play  |.hft  rrllp,  of   ahsnlnfft  priYiPft    and 

to  brook  no  restraint  in  the  use  of  his  power.  A  wide- 
spread disaffection  was  thus  created.  Many  leading 
men,  who  had  willingly  followed  Lorenzo,  now  fell 
away  from  his  son,  and  a  party  continually  in- 
creasing in  numbers  and  strength  was  formed  against 
him. 

Meanwhile  the  voice  of  Savonarola  was  still  pleading 
for  righteousness,  purity,  and  the  fear  of  God,  and 
more  arid  mnrp  f>^Q  ri^apnTifATifprj  ^^aaa  in  the  city 
gathered  round  his  pulpit.  He  displayed  no  special 
antagonism  tO  Piero's  rule ;  nevertheless,  without  his 
intending  it,  probably  without  his  being  conscious 
of  it,  he  came  to  be  regarded,  if  not  as  the  head, 
yet  as  the  heart  of  the  disaffection,  since  the  principles 
which  he  proclaimed  with  passionate  earnestness  were 
so  clearly  in  favour  of  justice  and  liberty.  That 
Savonarola  was  himself  profoundly  stirred  by  the 
prevailing  feeling  of  unrest,  may  be  seen  from  the 
strange  visions  which  at  this  time  flashed  before  his 
mind.  On  Good  Friday,  a  fortnight  after  Lorenzo's 
death,  he  beheld,  as  he  afterwards  described,  ^Jalgick 

and  reached  the  sky,  bearing^  on  it  the  inscription, 
Crux  Irae  Dei  ^thp  Pff^i^f^  ()f  (^gfYfi  Wvaih^-  and  on 
its  appearance  the  clouds  gathered,  the  sky  darkened, 
lightning  and  thunder,  wind  and  hail  burst  forth  in 
fury,  and  multitudes  of  men  were  slain.  Then  the 
sc^nej^anged ;  the  sky  cleared,  and  from  the  midst, 
not  of  Rome,  but  Jerusalem^  he  .^law  anothpr  cross, 
so  brilliant  «Tir|  p;1nrinnn  tbat  nil — tho  worid  was 
illumined  by  it,  and  flowers  sprang  up,  and  joy 
awoke   on    every  hand.     It    bore    the    legend,    Crux 


CHANGES  AND  PROPHECIES  63 

MisericordicB  Dei  (the  Cross  of  God's  Mercy),  and  all 
the  nations  flocked  lo  adore  "ii.  Such  a  vision  in- 
dicated the  suspense,  and  the  r^^rj^tilitiinn  nf  t^a  im- 
pelling; crisis,  which  Savonarola  shared  with  the 
general  mind. 

The  first  change  which  broke  the  suspense  was  the 
dpai.h  of  the  Pope,  fhft  1«^  anrl  incompptftnt  Innocent 
vj^jj.  Here  was  a  second  instance  of  the  fulfilment 
of  those  prophecies  reported  to  have  been  uttered 
by  Savonarola  m  the  sacristy  of  San  Marco  in  the 
previous  year.  First  Lorenzo,  and  then  the  Pope, 
whom  he  had  declared  to  be  near  their  end,  were 
now  gone. 

All  Italy  was  eagerly  intent  on  the  election  of 
Innocent's  successor.  During  the  night  between  the 
10th  and  11th  of  August  1492^  thp  Cop^.lave  of  Car- 
dinals^ assfniblf^rl  H^  ^^^  Vnf^r>nnj.^v.^cQ  thc  uotoHous 
RQiejti^n^— ^^gi^j  ^  Spaniard  by  birth,  to  fill  the 
vacant  chair.  The  result  was  due  to  the  rankest 
bribery.  Vast  sums  of  gold  were  freely  used  in 
Borgia's  favour,  and  some  of  the  cardinals  received 
a  heavy  price  for  their  vote.  Borgia's  character  was 
flagrantly  impure.  While  fascinating  in  address, 
genial  in  disposition,  and  singularly  expert  in  the 
conduct  of  affairs,  he  was  a  prelate  whose  life  was 
immoral  and  licentious  to  a  deplorable  degree,  and 
whose  breaches  of  the  vow  of  chastity  were  distinctly 
and  widely  known.  In  the  appointment  of  such  a 
man  to  the  highest  dignity  in  the  Church,  and  in 
the  general  gratification  with  which  his  election  was 
hailed  throughout  the  land,  we  have  a  slaajyoag^vidence 
of  theJ^axity  of  moral  feelinjy  which  formed  a  marked 
feature  of   the  times.     Dissolute  and  cgoxji^tas  the 

f^       or  THE  ^^ 


64  SAVONAROLA 

Papal  Court  had  been  before,  under  Sixtus  iv.  and 
Innocent  viii.,  it  now  became  more  than  ever  a  centre 
of  demoralisation;  and  when  the  new  Pope  was  pro- 
claimed under  the  title  of  Alexander  VL,  all  hope 
for  the  reg^eneration  of  religion  and  of  the^Church 
seemed  ^o  Be  shattered.  For  a  while  at  first 
appearances  promised  a  strong  and  determined 
rule,  but  events  gradually  proved  that  it  was  to 
be  strong  and  determined  not  in  the  interests  of 
religion,  but  only  in  the  interests  of  the  Pope  him- 
self, and  of  his  rapacious,  violent,  and  unscrupulous 
family. 

To  Savonarola  in  Florence,  with  eye  ever  fixed  on 
the  movements  of  the  ecclesiastical  world,  the  elevation 
to  thp  pontifir^R.tp,  of  a  prelate  of^le^nder  vi.!s  power- 
ful yet  darkly  blemished  character  was  a  painfuLdis- 
a^paLafcKient ;  and  when  he  thought  of  the  bribery 
and  intrigue  by  which  that  elevation  had  been  secured, 
and  saw  after  a  time  how  affairs  were  tending,  his 
mind  was  filled  with  the  gloomiest  forebodings.  He 
looked  for  nothing  but  woe  and  disaster.  The  sombre 
picture  which  his  imagination  drew  of  the  immediate 
future  was  so  definite  and  real,  that  he  accepted  it 
as  a  revelation  from  heaven.  He  saw  it  all  as  an 
inspired  vision.  On  the  night  preceding  the  last  of 
his  Advent  sermons  in  1492^he  beheld  in  the  heavens 
a  hand  grasping  a  sword^on_^^whii^h,.^ere  inscribed 
thQ....S^rc[s,'  (j-Ladius  Domini  super  terram  cito  et 
volociter  (the  S^^^^rd  of  th^  T  mn<^  npmn  ^Tup  earth  soon 
and  speedily \  He  heard  voices  pledging  grace  to 
the  penitent,  threatening  stripes  and  vengeance  on 
the  wicked,  and  calling  upon  himself  to  urge  men  to 
reverence   the   Almighty,  and  also  to  pray  that  God 


CHANGES  AND  PROPHECIES  65 

should  send  good  shepherds  to  His  Church,  that  the 
flock  might  be  fed  and  saved. 

That  Savonarola  believed  in  these  visions  as  verit- 
able,  comlnumcations  trom  the  unseen,  it  is  impossible 
to  doubt.  His  mind  conceived  things  with  such  vivid 
intensity,  that  his  thoughts  assumed  a  concrete  shape 
and  colour  which  imparted  to  them  an  authority  in 
his  view  nothing  less  than  Divine.  He  placed  the 
same  measure  of  reliance  on  his  prophecies  and  pre- 
dictions of  the  future.  These  were,  probably,  but 
the  sagacious  forecasts  which  his  skilful  reading  of 
events  had  led  him  to  form,  yet  in  a  high-strung 
temperament  like  his,  they  were  converted  into 
divinely-sent  glimpses  into  the  secrets  of  Providence, 
which  he  was  commissioned  to  make  known  to  men. 
There  is  no  sound  reason  for  charging  him  as  a  mere 
pretender  to  the  gifts  of  the  prophet  and  the  seer, 
for  the  sake  of  sensational  impressiveness  and  popular 
His  sincerity  of  spirit  was  sufficiently  proved 
to  clear  his  character  from  any  suspicion  of  wilful 
deception.  It  is  quite  obvious,  however,  that  he 
exaggerated  both  th^  vnlnp  gnrl  iha  anf|jnrify  of  his 
prophecies  and  visions.  For  the  most  part  they^came 
to  him  in  times  of  social  and  politicf^l  f^,gitfl.tir>r>  and 
therefore  they  were  attended  with  a  state  of  excite- 
ment in  his  own  feelings  which  led  him  to  place 
undue  confidence  in  their  Pivine  inspiration.  The 
fact  also  that  m  repeated  instances  they  approached 
so  wonderfully  near  the'  truth,  was  itself  a  snare  by 
which  his  mind  was  beguiled.  No  doubt,  those  visions 
and  prophecies  ^ave  him  a  certain  arresting  power 
in  adjressin^  the  people;  theyimpaHed 'an  added 
force  to  the  nerve-thrilling  and  often  spirit-quickening 
5 


X 


66  SAVONAROLA 

words  which  poured  forth  from  his  strong  and  fervent 
soul ;  still,  it  must  be  admitted,  they  tempted  him  into 
ocQasiopal  excesses  of  zeal,  and  into  misguided  attitudes 
and  utterances,  ^wRich  ultimately  had  the  effect  of 
embarrassing  his  reforming  work  and  bringing  about 
his  sad  and  premature  end. 

Visions  and  prophecies  entered  largely  into  the  sub- 
stance of  Savonarola's  sermons  in  the  months  imme- 
diately following  Alexander  vi.'s  accession  to  the  Papal 
throne,  and  Florence  was  stirred  by  his  ominous  fore- 
shado wings  of  coming  judgment.  Suddenly,  however, 
in  the  spring  of  1493,  it  was  found  that  Savonarola 
had  left  the  city  and  was  preaching_at_Bologna. 
According  to  Villari,  his  departure  was  due  to  the 
intervention  of  _Piero  de  Medici^  whoj^tCSugirT^  of 
the  .  mflue^nfi^^  preacher    rornid 

whom  his  own  ftnpTnif^s  wprA  pnyr  T'^tHj^Pg,  instigated 
the  autliOTrETes  of^the  Dominican  Order  to  command 
his  removal.  Dr.  Creighton  throws  doubt  on  the 
existence  of  any  >^uch  feeling  on  Piero's  part,  and 
argues  that  if  Savonarola  had  been  regarded  as  an 
enemy  it  is  inconceivable  that  Pi^ro  should  have 
helped    him,    as   he   afterwards    did,   to   procure   the 

Papal    Bull    which    made    thf^    Flnrf^ntinft    Dnnm'mVanft 

ind^p^^dent  of  th^  T,nmV>Qra.X!nTifrrA(y^tinn  The  real 
explanation  of  the  absence  it  is  not  easy  to  discover ; 
but  the  absence  itself  was  a  vexation  tQ  the  Floren- 
tines, and  especially  tT-yiTi^^  ^n  t'hp.  mr>nV«  of  San 
Marco,  who  sadly  missed  the  guidance  and  inspiring 
fellowship  of  their  beloved  Fra  Girolamo.  His  work 
at  Bologna  was  not  altogether  encouraging.  He 
preached  the  Lenten  course  of  sermons  there,  but 
felt  as  if  in  an  atmosphere  of  restraint,  and  this  so 


CHANGES  AND  PROPHECIES  67 

tamed  his  manner  as  to  call  forth  the  common  criti- 
cism that  he  was  but  "a  simple  man,  and  a  good 
enough  preacher  for  women."  Gradually,  however,  his 
audience  increased,  and  people  of  all  ranks — artisans, 
peasants,  burghers,  men  and  women  of  note  —  were 
attracted  by  the  reputation  of  his  name.  The  haughty 
wife^  of  Giovanni  Bentivoglio,  the  despotic  lord  of 
Bolagna,  was  one  of  his  regular  hearers,  but  she 
came  habitually  late,  and  with  a  pompous  train  of 
attendants,  interrupting  the  devotions  of  the  congre- 
gation and  the  discourse  of  the  preacher.  At  first 
Savonarola  endeavoured  to  shame  her  by  pausing  in 
his  sermon  till  she  and  her  retinue  were  settled  in 
their  seats,  but  finding  that  the  annoyance  was  re- 
peated, he  addressed  an  admonition  to  ladies  in  general 
as  to  the  dutv^pf  arrivinp^^m  time  and  not  disturbing 
the  worship.  Even  this  had  no  efiect ;  and  at  last,  one 
day,  when  the  interruption  was  particularly  distract- 
ing, Savonarola  was  roused,  and  cried  out,  '^ehold, 
here  ^^niPiH  th^  devil  to  disturb  the  word  of  God."  In 
her  rage  at  such  a  public  affront  to  her  pride,  the 
great  lady  ordered  two  of  her  cavaliers  to  strike  her 
reprover  dead  there  and  then  in  the  pulpit.  They 
had  not  the  courage  to  attempt  the  task.  She  sent 
two  others  to  attack  him  in  the  convent  of  San 
Domenico,  but  when  admitted  into  his  presence  they 
were  subdued  by  his  ^e;fit']fi  yfit-  dignifiArl  hpfl.rinor  and 
crept  away  abashed.  Notwithstanding  this  patent 
risk  to  his  life,  he  remained  in  the  city  till  the  Lent 
season  closed,  and  then  in  his  last  sermon  he  made  the 
public  announcement,  evidently  in  defiance  of  the  hos- 
tile design  to  which  he  knew  himself  exposed :  "  This 
afternoon  I  will  take  the  road  to  Florence,  with  my 


68  SAVONAROLA 

slender  staff  and  my  wooden  flask,  and  I  will  repose  at 
Pianora.  If  any  person  want  aught  of  me,  let  him 
come  before  I  set  out ; "  and  then  he  added,  with  signi- 
ficant emphasis,  ''Nevertheless,  it  is  not  mv  fate  to 
diev,.ajLJBologna." 


CHAPTER   IX 

Preparing  for  the  Flood 

The  first  task  to  which  Savonarola  set  himself  on 
returning  from  Bologna  was  the  refojatL-cOua^own 
n^onastery.  This  was  an  object  which  he  had  been 
contemplating  for  some  time,  as  a  preparation  for  any 
wider  reform  to  which  Providence  might  open  the 
way.  He  saw  clearly  that  if  a  thorough  improve- 
ment in  the  religious  condition  of  the  Church  was 
to  be  reached,  the  work  must  begin  amongst  the 
monks  and  the  priests,  and  he  decided  therefore  to 
make  a  start  by  setting  his  own  household  in 
order. 

As  an  initial  step,  however,  he  found  it  necessary 
to  procure  for  himself  and  his  convent  a  more  inde- 
pendent position.  San  Marco  and  the  other  Domini- 
can brotherhoods  associated  with  it  in  Tu^fiftny  were 
under  the  jurisdiction  nf  f.ViP  Cnngrftgriitinn  of  Lom- 
by|.^r]j^  ancl  Savonarola,  as  Prior  of  San  Marco,  was 
subj ect  to  the  commands  of  the  Vicar  c^f  t^^^'  nonoTA- 
gatifiBii.  Accordingly,  with  a  view  to  obtain  greater 
freedom  in  his  reforming  efforts,  he  mad^  application  to 
Bome  for  the  separation  nf  ^.]-|p  ^Tnspaji  Congregation 
from  |,hn,(  of  T.nTy^harrlv ;  and  in  this  he  was  supported 
not  only  by  his  own  brethren,  but  by  the  Signory  of 

69 


70  SAVONAROLA 


riorence  and  by  Piero  de  Medici  himself. 

flnprit^la]     i\a^^^r^^\     T^r^ntfo    V^f     "N,flirlf^W:^,S  ,^c[ 


The  in- 

■3Siflip1f,8  wfli.^  .a]fiftn,.tm  his 

side.  The  o.hi  ef ^  ftppQ^l  ents-^of  the  scheme  were  the 
heads  of  the  Lombard  convents,  Tiii^;|[pvip.Q  ^^n^y.fi.  of 
Mikua^^and  PopR  A.leYaftd^r  vi.  ^i&m  de  Medici's 
assial^ance  may  l^f^  pyp^inpH  partly  by  a  desire  to 
show  hostility  to  LudovicQ  ,S£prza,  and  partly  by  his 
expectation  that  the  indftppridp-npp.  af,..Jd>p  Tuscan 
monasteries,  and  especially  of  San  Marco,  would^add 
to  the  di^iiLty~iiJLELoi:ence.  In  face  of  the  Pope's  dis- 
favour the  case  seemed  hopeless,  but  a  Brief  ordaining 
the  separation  was  obtained  by  a  bold  and  clever 
manoeuvre.  The  subj  e(^  was  discussed ja^  Con 
^'^^i  Hit  PnniP  nn  ??nd  Mi\j  1493,  when  Alexander, 
losing  patience,  abruptly  closed  the  assembly,  declaring 
that  he  would  sign  no  Brief  that  day.  Cardinal  CarafFa 
remained  behind,  and  in  p^^yfnl  riOriYPrnnit.ir^^  a^lUV.  the 
^,Opp  <^j:ew  the  isignnt  rinr  from  hh  fin[i;rr  ^rnlrri  th^ 
d^uaipent,  which  had  been  already  prepared,  with  the 
full  stamp  of  Papal  authority,  and  then  carried  it  off 
in  triumph,  just  a  few  minutes  before  a  deputation 
representing  the  opposing  party^arrjyed  to  find  that 
the  deed  against  which  they  wished  to  protest  had 
been  done,  and  could  not  be  recalled.  The  effect  of 
this  Brief  was  to  give  to  .  S^voaarola  a  lij^rty  of 
action  which  he  had  not  hitherto  possessed.  He  was 
re-GJactod  Prior  of  iSani  Marco,  and  was  afterwards 
"TP^^intjpfl  yippr-(^^^'^^q]  nf  tih^  Tiif=^rRin  Cmigr^^"^^'^^ 
becoming  thereby  indep£aidfiBt*-jal,.,a]JLw,ecclesiastical 
autlii^yjt^y  save  that  of  th^  "^ope  f\r\(\  ih^...J^.her- 
General  of  the  DgpTtinican  Order. 

The  free  position  thus  gained,  Savonarola  at   once 
proceeded  to  use  in  the  reform   of  San  Marco.      His 


PREPARING  FOR  THE  FLOOD  71 

first  work  was  to  restore  the  original  rule  of  the 
founder.  San  Domenico's  last  words  to  his  disciples 
had  been,  "  Have  charity,  preserve  humility,  observe 
voluntary  poverty ;  may  my  malediction  and  that  of 
God  fall  upon  him  that  shall  bring  possessions  to 
this  order."  The  possessions  which  the  convent  had 
acquired,  in  disregard  of  those  injunctions,  were  now 
rf^Tjiy^pcpd.  All  J^ne  clothing-,  ornaments,  and  expen- 
sive furiii^ure  were  forbidden.  Longer  hQyiy^  of 
prayer,  fasting,  and  penitential  mortification  were 
introduced,  Savonarola  himself  being  as  rigorous  as 
any  in  the  practice  of  these  austerities.  The  two 
cells  which  he  occupied  at  the  end  of  the  long  corridor 
on  the  upper  floor  were  barely  furnished,  and  very 
small,  each  being  only  four  paces  square,  with  one 
window  about  two  feet  in  height  and  rounded  at  the 
top.  One  was  his  sleeping  apartment,  the  other  his 
study.  In  the  first  cell  the  visitor  sees  to-day  some 
of  the  relics  of  the  great  Prior's  devoutly  f^^ji^ple  ^^^ 
self-denying  life — his  rosary,  wooden  crucifix,  cloak, 
under-garment,  and  hair-shirt ;  and  also  a  reminder  of 
his  pathetic  end — a  fragment  of  the  stake  at  which 
he  suffered. 

Moreover,  it  was  arranged  that  if  the  alms  collected 
from  friends  outside  were  not  sufficient,  the  needs  of 
the  brotherhood  were  to  be  met  by  the  manual  labour 
of  those  whose  tastes  and  abilities  did  not  qualify 
them  for  intellectual  studies  or  peculiarly  spiritual 
work.  The  result  of  this  arrangement  was  that  San 
Marco  became  a  home  of  artistic  industry,  wherejpaint- 
ing,  sculpture,  architecture^  wopd-ff^rYJilgi  ^^^  manu- 
script-illumination  were  busily  pursued.  As  for  the 
special  studies  carried  on,  these  were  divided  into  three 


72  SAVONAROLA 

branches — dogmatic  theologj^  philosophy  a^d  moral 
science,  and  Holy'  Scripture ;  and  in  order  that  the 
work  ot'  the  last^amed  department  might  be  followed 
out  to  greater  profit,  Savonarola  took  care  to  provide 
for  the  teaching  not  only  of  Greek,  but  of  the  Hebrew, 
Syriac,  and  Chaldee  tongues. 

The  prestige  of  San  Marco  was  distinctly  enhanced 
under  so  lofty -purposed  and  large-minded  a  regime. 
Difficulties,  indeed,  arose;  criticism  and  hostility  had 
to  be  encountered ;  but  soon  a  higher  earnestness  was 
awakened,  and  the^imnre^ssion  produced  in  Florence 
was  such  as  to  attrar^i,  ever-ir^^ij'easinp-  numbers  of 
citi^ftps.  some  of  them  men  of  noble  birtk,  io^ioin  the 
brotherhood.  The  convent  became  the  centre  of  a 
revived  religious  enthusiasm,  and  the  fresh,  purifying 
influence  was  felt  in  other  communities  of  the  Domini- 
can Order  throughout  Tuscany. 

Savonarola's  relations  with  his  own  monks  and  with 
the  visitors  who  frequented  the  convent  were  of  the 
most  cordial  and  friendly  character.  The  natural 
gravity  of  his  disposition  was  softened  by  a  gentle 
graciousness,  which  seldom  failed  to  beget  a  warm 
affection  in  those  closely  associated  with  him.  He 
could  unbend  from  his  usual  austerity  of  mien,  and 
enter  with  genial  freedom  into  the  pleasantries  and 
pastimes  of  the  brethren  in  their  hours  of  relaxation. 
Occasionally  he  would  take  them  out  for  a  day's 
excursion  into  the  country,  choosing  some  secluded 
spot  where  they  could  enjoy  the  beauties  of  nature 
undisturbed ;  and  there  he  would  freely  join  with  them 
in  their  simple  repast  under  a  shady  tree,  read  to 
them,  sing  with  them,  and  look  on  with  frank  and 
easy  good-humour  at  the  sports  in  which  the  novices 


PREPARING  FOR  THE  FLOOD  73 

sought  vent  for  their  youthful  spirits  and  energies ; 
endearing  himself  to  them  all  by  his  winning  brother- 
liness  and  humanity. 

He  was,  moreover,  the  trusted  counsellor  to  whom 
citizens  of  all  ranks  turned  for  guidance  in  their  per- 
plexities. Inquirers' caineio  'him  wiUi  th^fr  doubts ; 
care-laden  men  and  women  sought  his  consolation  in 
their  troubles;  the  erring  and  penitent  repaired  to 
him  with  the  burdens  that  lay  upon  their  conscience ; 
and  he  received  them,  one  and  all,  with  a  sweet  be- 
nignity and  a  firm  yet  gentle  faithfulness  of  treatment 
which  sent  them  away  strengthened  and  comforted. 
He  had  a  tender  heart,  with  a  deep  fountain  of  sym- 
pathy in  it,  notwithstanding  his  apparent  severity. 

His  usefulness  at  this  time  was  extended  in  its 
range  by  the  devotional  publications  which  he  had 
begun  to  issue.  His^  tractates  on  Humility,  Prayer, 
the  Love  of  Jesus  Christ,  andj-.hf^  \vj^r^warl  iTf^  were 
widely  used  as  religious  handbooks,  and  enabled  him 
to  reach  and  influence  a  larger  audience  than  that 
which  had  been  enthralled  by  his  ministrations  in  the 
Cathedral.  These  works  had  a  fine  saintly  flavour,  a 
mystic  elevation  of  thought,  and  a  rich  spiritual 
wisdom,  which  afforded  nourishment  to  thousands  of 
earnest,  aspiring  minds  not  only  in  Florence  but  in  far 
distant  cities. 

For  months  now  Savonarola's  voice  had  not  been 
heard  in  public,  but  towards  the  end  of  this  year^.1493, 
he  appeared  ag^ain  in  the  Dnmno  p^ilpit  and  preached 
the  sermons  for  the  Advent  season  to  congregations 
that  listened  with  rapt  and  reverent  emotion.  His 
stronp^  personality  and  impassioned  earnestness,  his 
lofty  integrity  and  purity  of  life,  against  which  the 


74  SAVONAROLA 

slightest  whisper  of  suspicion  had  never  been  breathed, 
were  steadily  raising  him  in  the  esteem  of  the  com- 
munity, while  the  growing;  belief  in  his  predictions 
and  warnings  intensified  the  p^pnla.r  iT^tf,|-p.st  in  his 
preaching.  With  the  73rd  Psalm  for  his  subject,  he 
dweTT^pecially  on  the  corru^iiiacA-oLihe  clergy  and 
the  vices  of  the  princes  of  Italy.  The  clergy,  he 
said,  "tickle  men's  ears  with  talk  of  Aristotle  and 
Plato,  Virgil  and  Petrarch,  and  take  no  concern  in  the 
salvation  of  souls.  .  .  .  They  speak  against  pride  and 
ambition,  yet  are  plunged  in  both  up  to  the  eyes; 
they  preach  chastity,  and  maintain  concubines ;  they 
prescribe  fasting,  and  feast  splendidly  themselves." 

He  had  strong  words  of  reproof  for  the  dignitaries 
of  the  Church,  and  in  a  classical  passage,  which  is 
here  quoted  from  the  English  translation  of  Professor 
Villari's  work,  he  held  them  up  to  withering  scorn. 
"  There  thou  seest  the  great  prelates  with  splendid 
mitres  of  gold  and  precious  stones  on  their  heads,  and 
silver  crosiers  in  hand ;  there  they  stand  at  the  altar, 
decked  with  fine  copes  and  stoles  of  brocade,  chanting 
those  beautiful  vespers  and  masses,  very  slowly,  and 
with  so  many  grand  ceremonies,  so  many  organs  and 
choristers,  that  thou  art  struck  with  amazement.  .  .  . 
Men  feed  upon  these  vanities  and  rejoice  in  these 
pomps^  and  say  that  the  Church  of  Christ  was  never 
so  flourishing,  nor  divine  worship  so  well  conducted  as 
at.,£reaejit  ...  likewise  that  the  first  prelates  were 
inferior  to  these  of  our  own  times.  The  former,  it  is 
true,  had  fewer  gold  mitres  and  fewer  chalices,  for, 
indeed,  what  few  they  possessed  were  broken  up  to 
relieve  the  needs  of  the  poor;  whereas  our  prelates 
for  the  sake  of  obtaining  chalices,  will  rob  tlie  poor  of 


PREPARING  FOR  THE  FLOOD  75 

their  sole  means  of  support.  But  dost  thou  know 
what  I  would  tell  thee  ?  In  the  primitive  Church  the 
chalices  were  of  wood,  the  prplnt^in  nf  ^^]"|-  in  these 
days  the  Chur(;h  hath  t^haliiflt' 1^1' ft f  H,'*^'^  ^'^^d  piHat^^s  of 

Equally  severe  were  the  rebukes  which  he  levelled 
at  the  political  rulers  of  the  land,  the  petty  but  osten- 
tatious sovereigns  who  held  sway  over  the  numerous 
principalities  into  which  Italy  was  then  divided.  They 
made  their  courts  and  palaces  a  refuge  for  the  wanton 
and  the  unworthy.  They  showed  favour  to  flattering 
philosophers  and  poets,  who  pandered  to  their  vanity 
by  lies  and  fables.  And  he  struck  a  note  of  passionate 
sympathy  with  liberty  by  denouncing  those  luxurious 
princes  for  the  readiness  with  which,  under  the  in- 
fluence of  false  counsellors,  they  devised  new  burdens 
and  taxes  to  drain  the  blood  of  the  people.  The 
rigj^teous,  he  said,  were  longing  for  the  scourge  6r 
GUji-^  smite  the  earth,  and  in  solemn  accents  he 
foretold  a  day  that  was  drawing  nigh  when,  hurrying 
down  from  the  hills  of  the  north,  the  agent  of  God's 
retribution  would  appear.  "Ov^erthe  Alps  One  is 
coming,  sword  in  hand,  against  Italy,  to '  cKasiise  her 

t,yrp.Trf^<j^^  "H's  p.OTnino^  Wi'TI  hft  in  thft  st.nrm  {\.nn  whirl- 
wind, like  that  of  Cyrus." 

It  would  beamistake,  however,  to  suppose  that 
the  preaching  o^  Savonarola'  Was  altogether  in  this 
severely  'denun^iaj^orv  strain.  Now  and  again  his 
voice  softened,  and  in  tones  of  tenderness  which  went 
straight  to  the  heart  he  spoke  of  his  anxiety  for  his 
beloved  Florence,  of  his  sorrow  for  the  sins  of  her 
people,  his  yearnings  for  their  salvation,  his  fears  and 
hopes  regarding  their  future;  and  as  he  thus  poured 


^6  SAVONAROLA 

out  his  soul  in  fond  concern  and  entreaty,  the  tears 
rolled  down  many  a  cheek,  and  even  strong  and 
hardened  men  were  overcome.  As  Mary  Tudor  said 
of  Calais,  so  might  Savonarola  have  said  of  Florence, 
"  If  my  heart  were  cut  open,  you  would  see  the  name 
engraved   there."      Florence   and   her   interests   were 

flp^r  to  hi«  Pj.ffpf^.tJQns,  np.vpr  a.hsp.nf,  from  his  thonaht, 
and  somehow  in  those  earlier  years  of  his  ministry  he 
made  the  citizens  feel  that  it  was  so. 


It  must,  nowever,  be  acknowledged  that,  owing 
partly  to  his  natural  sombreness  of  temperament,  and 
partly  to  his  painful  realisation  of  the  evil  conditions 
of  his  time,  the  great  preacher  contracted  a.  j^fylp.  of 
discourse  which  was  marked  by  sp.vpri'f.y  of  rp.proof 
and  denunciation  as  its  predominant  feature.  Hence 
there  Is  considerable  truth  in  Roscoe's  description : 
"The  Divine  word  from  the  lips  of  Savonarola  de- 
scended not  amongst  his  audience  like  the  dews  of 
heaven ;  it  was  the  piercing  hail,  the  sweeping  whirl- 
wind, the  destroying  sword." 

The  Lent  of  the  following  year,  14^4^  is  rendered 
memora]5Te"by  the  famous  series  of  jecj^es  on  the 
Book  of  Genesis,  which  had  been  begun  in  1492. 
Having  proceeded  in  his  exposition  as  far  as  the 
building  of  the  Ark  by  Noah,  he  lingered  over  that 
subject,  and  day  after  day  gave  full  range  to  his 
ingenuity  in  allegorical  interpretation,  astonishing  his 
hearers  by  the  wealth  of  spiritual  instruction  which 
he  drew  from  every  minute  detail.  The  Ark  was  the 
shelter  of  the  righteous  from  the  storm_£^j  udgment ; 
its  length  signified  taith;  its  breadth,  cliarity ;  its 
height,  hope.  Every  plank  had  its  mystic  meaning, 
and  so  many  new  thoughts  offered  themselves  day  by 


PREPARING  FOR  THE  FLOOD  yj 

day,  that  it  seemed  as  if  he  never  could  reach  the  story 
of  the  Flood  itself.  Still  there  rang  through  all  the 
same  message  of  warning,  the  same  urgent  appeal  to 
repent  and  seek  deliverance  from  the  tribulation  at 
)}g-^  That  message  and  warning  were  listened  to 
with  more  living  interest  now.  The  public  conscience 
was  gradually  awakening.  The  burning  words  of  the 
eloquent  preacher  were  reaching  Florentine  hearts  as 
well  as  captivating  Florentine  ears.  A  religious  revival 
had  begun.  The  abuses  and  iniquities  of  Church^and 
5>tate  were  coming  home  to  men  with  a  force  unfelt 
before.  The  misdoings  ol:  aTTope  like  Alexander  vi. 
and  the  mismanagement  of  the  city's  affairs  by  Piero 
de  Medici  were  creating  a  vague  uneasiness  and  haunt- 
ing fear.  There  was  a  presentiment  of  trouble  on  every 
side.  Those  sermons  on J^he  Ark,  therefore,  offering  a 
refuge  from  the  inreatened  calamities,  and  promising 
safety  to  Florence,  the  favoured  city,  if  she  should 
repent  and  turn  to  the  Lord,  met  a  conscious  need 
in  people's  minds.     But  the  Flood  had  not  yet  come. 


/ 


CHAPTEK  X 

Amid  the  Throes  of  Revolution 

All  through  the  summer  of  1494  signs  of  storm  and 
trouble  loomed  on  the  northern  horizon.  The  young 
monarch,  Charlies  viii.  of  France,  as  representing  the 
house  of  Anjou,  was  preparing  to  assert  an  old  claim  to 

the     ]^j|]grlnm    of     ^Vaplpg^    wFiat-a     i\  Itnr^ar^    tL  had    jUSt 

rftpp.n  t1  y  ffl?,(^p,p.fid  ftd,  if<^  th  ft  throne.  Pope  Alexander  vi., 
after  appearing  for  a  time  to  encourage  Charles,  had 
turned  r^und  and  tak^n  TyifQpsQ^s  side  ^jj^efence  of  his 
ri^ts.  But  the  most  determined  agent  in  fomenting 
the  strife  was  Ludoyico  Sforza,  the  usurper  of  Milan, 
who  had  strong  personal  reasons  for  ""Instigating 
Charles  in  prosecuting  his  design.  Ludovico  Kelcl  his 
nephew7  the  rightful  heir"  to  the  dukedom,  in  close 
confinement,  and  lived  in  terror  of  the  vengeance 
threatened  by  the  Neapolitan  reigning  family,  to  which 
the  wife  of  the  imprisoned  Prince  belonged.  It  was 
therefore  to  his  interest  that  the  southern  kingdom 
should  be  seized  by  the  foreigner.  Another  adviser 
in  the  same  direction  was  the  po^^^rful  cardinal, 
Giuliano  della  Rovere,  who  had  been  a  canSTda.te'^or 
the  FapaLxEaif^'  and"  who  still  bitterly  resented^  the 
election  Qf  P^pe  Alexander  in  preference  to  himself  by 
means  of  the   lavish   bribery  employed.     Rovere  had 

78 


AMID  THE  THROES  OF  REVOLUTION     79 

deserted  to  the  French  King,  and  was  now  using  his 
influence  to  ui-ge  him  to  strike  a  blow  at  Naples  and 
Rome  together. 

The  land  was  in  a  ferment  of  restlessness  as  the 
summer  wore  on.  Ambassadors  hurried  hither  and 
thither ;  intrigues  were  busy  at  Milan  and  Rome  and 
at  the  French  King's  court ;  rumours  of  all  sorts  flew 
abroad.  The  people  everywhere  were  on  the  strain  of 
expectancy.  Many  were  ready"to  welconie  the  invader 
in  the  hope  that  his  coming  might  be  the  means  of 
redressing  their  grievances  and  righting  their  wrongs. 
There  was  a  widespread  feeling,  so  far  strengthened 
by  Savonarola's  preaching,  that  some  momentous 
change  was  at  hand.  The  Prior  of  San  Marco  had 
foretold  that  the  instrument  of  God's  judgment  would 
come  from  beyond  the  Alps,  to  purge  the  nation  from 
its  evil  and  renovate  the  Church  ;  here  now,  it  seemed, 
in  the  monarch  of  France  was  the  divinely-appointed 
messenger  through  whom  the  prediction  was  to  be 
fulfilled. 

At  Florence  public  sympathy,  affected  largely  by  the 
memory"^  ^a  long-standing  friendship,  was  at  first 
distinctl,^JxL&y^ur„of„France.  Piero  de  Medici,  how- 
ever, regardless  of  popular  sentiment,  and  without 
consulting  the  Signory,  took  the  rash  step  of  openly 
joining  the  alliance  between  Naples  "anH  £Ee  Pope. 
The  FIorenl^ines"W©r^''exaspefafe^  was 

roused  to  wrath,  not  only  against  Piero  but  against 
Florence  itself;  and  Ludovico  Sforza,  dreading  the 
effect  of  so  formidable  a  league  on  his  own  tenure  of 
power,  became  more  pressing  than  ever  in  inciting  the 
French  monarch  to  move  southwards  and  march  his 
armies  over  the  land. 


So  SAVONAROLA 

The  counsellors  and  generals  of  Charles  had  nothing 
but  discouragement  to  offer  to  such  an  enterprise, 
which  in  their  estimation  was  hazardous  in  the 
extreme ;  but  the  King  overruled  all  objections.  He 
was  consumed  by  a  feverish  ambition,  and  buoyed  np 
by  romantic  dreams  of  adventure  and  conquest.  He 
had  conceived  the  idea  of  posspssmg  t^ie  \vhole  of  Italy, 
of  rising  to  imperial  dignity,  and  making  the  I^apacy 
dependent  on  France ;  and  then,  having  gained  a 
position  at  the  head  of  Europe,  he  was  to  set  forth  on 
a  holy^rusade  against  the  conquering  Turks.  With 
such  visions  of  achievement  kindling  "his  imagination, 
he  resolved  to  plunge  into  the  undertaking,  which 
looked  so  rich  in  gain  and  glory. 

In  the  beginning  of  September  Charles  crossed  the 
Alps,  and  it  was  amid  the  tension  of  suspense  created 
by  the  news  of  that  event  that  Savonarola  resumed  the 
sermons  on  Noah's  Ark  which  he  had  found  himself  so 
strangely  unable  to  bring  to  a  close  in  the  previous 
spring.  On  21st  September  he  came  to  the  passage, 
"  Behold,  I,  even  I,  do  bring  a  flood  of  waters  upon  the 
earth."  Tidings  had  just  reached  Florence  of  the  sack 
and  pillage  of  Rapallo,  on  the  northern  coast,  by  a 
section  of  the  French  a!bmy,  and  a  feeling  of  consterna- 
tion had  been  aroused.  The  popular  sympathy,  with 
the  invaders  was  now  changed  into  an  agitation  of 
dismay  as  it  began  to  be  realised  how  grave  a  disaster 
the  invasion  was  likely  to  prove.  The  Cathedral  was 
crowded  to  its  utmost  capacity,  by  a  congregation 
sensitively  alive  to  every  word  which  the  Fra  Girolamo 
had  to  say.  With  tremulous  eagerness  they  waited  for 
the  great  preacher,  and  when  at  last  he  mounted  the 
pulpit  and   gave   forth   the   text   with   a   voice   that 


AMID  THE  THROES  OF  REVOLUTION      8i 

sounded  like  thunder  in  the  vast  gloomy  building,  the 
words  seemed  to  come  as  a  supernatural  announcement, 
miraculous  in  its  very  appropriateness  The  hushed 
assembly,  which  embraced  not  only  the  chief  merchants 
but  many  of  the  scholars  and  cultivated  men  of  the 
city,  listened  awestruck  under  a  deepening  impression 
of  the  clearness  and  certainty  with  which  the  progicher  s 
predictions  were  coming  true.  feavonarola  himself,  as 
all  coilld  feee,  was "  profoundly  moved,  and  as  he  pro- 
claimed judgment  against  ungodliness,  and  implored  his 
beloved  Florence  to  repent  and  obtain  deliverance  from 
the  Lord,  he  spoke  as  one  overpowered  by  the  sense  of 
his  own  inspiration  from  on  high.  In  speechless  awe, 
and  half  dead  with  terror,  the  great  audience,  after  the 
sermon,  passed  out  into  the  street. 

Slowly  but  steadily  the  flood  of  invasion  swept  south- 
ward and  advanced  towards  Florence,  the  dissensions 
and  jealousies  of  the  Italian  States  leaving  its  course 
comparatively  unchecked.  Piero  de  Medici,  recognising 
his  danger,  and  conscious  of  the  utter  want  of  support 
from  his  own  people,  took  his  fate  in  his  hand  and 
hurrFed  otf  alone  to  conciliate  Charles  and  make  terms 
of  peace.  So  chilling,  however,  was  his  reception, 
that  his  weak  spirit  succumbed,  and  he  consented 
to  conditions  which  were  humiliating  in  the  lowest 
degree.  He  surrendered  to  Charles  the  border  fort- 
resses of  the  Florentine  territoryT'granTeno  him  the 
right  '^^CTTJCCupy  Fisa  and  Leghorn  during  the  con- 
tinuanceof  thFwar,  and  prornise^Hfo  pay  a  subsidy  of 
200,000  florins,  "without  obtaining  in  return  for  such 
concessions  any  guarantee  whatever  either  for  his  city 
or  for  himself. 

Florence  rose  in  fury.  Its  independence  had  been 
6 


^M^ 


82  .4W>      SAVONAROLA 


sold  ^-w^^  hj  tibfi  i\'^V'^Q^'^  Vr\r^^  whose  control  of 
affairs  was  utterly  regardless  of  the  public  good ;  and 
the  long-pent-up  discontent  found  expression  in  a  burst 
of  revolutionary  excitement.  Savonayola  rendered  an 
important  service  by  doing  his  utmost  to  hold  that 
excitement  under  some  rational  restraint.  He  had  now 
the  general  confidence  of  the  citizens ;  they  knew  him 
as  an  enemy  of  tyrants  and  an  advocate  of  popular 
rights,  and  they  looked  to  him  as  the  one  man  sure  to 
give  them  sympathy  and  guidance  in  this  crisis  of  their 
fate.  He  had  begun  to  preach  on  the  Book  of  Haggai 
as  affording  a  subject  suited  to  the  circumstances  of 
the  hour,  and  a  dense  mass  packed  the  Cathedral  to 
hear  him.  The  burden  of  his  message  day  after  day, 
as  he  confronted  the  sea  of  upturned,  agitated  faces, 
was,  "  Repent ;  the  salvation  of  Florence,  of  Rome,  of 
Italy,  is  to  come  through  repentance."  With  tender 
appeals  and  many  a  pathetic  avowal  of  his  tears  and 
prayers  for  Florence,  he  exhorted  the  people  to 
righteousness  and  faith  and  the  fear  of  God.  So 
strenuous  indeed  were  his  exertions,  that  he  was 
reduced  to  exhaustion  and  his  health  was  seriously 
affecte(^fQr  several  days.  But  the  public  excitement 
was  materially  allayed,  and  prevented  from  rushing  to 
wild  and  hazardous  extremes. 

Meanwhile  the  officials  of  the  city  were  addressing 
themselves  to  the  practical  political  problem  which  had 
arisen.  On  ^f,h  NnypTnLpr  the  Signory,  acting  on 
their  own  initiative,  summoned  a  special  meeting  of 
Council,  at  which  Pioro  Capponi,  a  man  of  proved 
sagacity  and  high  repute,  gave  voice  to  the  general 
feeling.  Pierp  de  Medici,  he  declared,  was  no  longer  fit 
to  govern  the  State,  and  the  time  had  come  to  have 


AMID  THE  THROES  OF  REVOLUTION      83 

done  with  the  government  of  children  and  to  put  forth 
an  effort  for  the  rep-r^v^ry  of  liberty.  On  Capponi's 
motion,  it  was  resolved  to  send  an)l;)fi|SRad9rs  to  treat 
with  Charles,  and  undo,  if  possible,  the  mischievous 
results  of  Fiero's  pusillanimous  conduct.  Those  ambas- 
sadors were  to  offer  a  friendly  welcome  to  the  King 
and  his  army  on  their  march  to  the  south.  It  was  also 
resolved  to  collect  the  soldiers  in  secret  places  in  the 
city,  and  to  call  upon  all  classes  to  provide  themselves 
with  arms  and  be  ready  to  issue  forth  and  fight  in  case 
of  need.  And  particularly  Capponi  urged,  and  the  pro- 
posal met  with  hearty  agreement,  that  Fra  Girolamo 
SavonaxLola  should  be  sent  as  one  of  the  ambassadors, 
seeing  that  he  had  gained  the  love  of  all  the  people. 

Fra  Girolamo  accepted  the  commission.  In  doing  ^o 
he  stepped  into  the  arena  of  politics  and  took  part  in 
the  first  stages  of  a  political  revolution.  True,  he  was 
a  member  of  a  monastic  order,  and  as  such  supposed 
to  be  precluded  from  entangling  himself  with  public 
earthly  affairs.  But  the  circumstances  of  the  time  and 
the  force  of  his  own  large,  strong  natureTia3  already 
liftej  l^im  mto  a.  Y>q^i\,inn  which  he  could  not  so  faith- 
fully use  for  the  glory  of  God  and  the  cause  of 
righteousness  if  trammelled  by  rigid  monastic  rules. 
By  means  of  those  sermons  delivered  from  the  Cathe- 
dral pulpit,  as  well  as  by  the  power  of  a  pure  and  lofty 
example,  the  distinguished  preacher  had  by  this  time 
wrought  a  marked  effect  on  the  Florentine  people.  He 
had  welded  them  into  a  living  unity  of  feeling  such  as 
had  not  for  long  been  seen ;  he  had  imbued  large 
masses  of  them  with  exalted  aims  and  with  a  spirit  of 
sacred  fervour  and  religious  faith ;  he  had  reawakened 
their  sense  of  justice  and   their  lovoljdi  liberty,  and 


84  SAVONAROLA 

given  them  a  new  conception  of  what  a  Christian  city 
and  commonwealth  should  be.  There  was  no  man  who 
stood  out  so  prominently  as  the  representative  of  their 
be^t  aspirations ;  no  man  so  thoroughly  trusiea  alike 
for  his  courageous  integrity,  his  warm  humanity,  and 
his  unwearied  interest  in  the  public  good.  Even  men 
of  culture,  to  whom  the  lofty  tone  of  his  teaching  had 
been  at  first  distasteful,  had  come  to  feel  the  contagion 
of  his  spirjiuaL-fisihusiasm,  and  yielded  to  his  power. 
Angelo  Poliziano,  whom  we  have  seen  as  the  learned 
scholar  and  the  trusted  friend  of  Lorenzo  de  Medici,  was 
softened  in  spirit  and  drawn  into  strong  sympathy 
with  Christian  truth,  and  when  he  died,  in  September 
of  that  very  year,  he  requested  to  be  buried  in  the 
Dominican  habit  in  the  San  Marco  church.  The 
versatile  and  brilliant  Pico  della  Mirandola,  who  had 
all  along  been  sensitive  to  Savonarola's  moral  and 
intellectual  power,  was  so  deeply  touched,  that  he 
cherished  the  desire  of  joining  the  San  Marco  brother- 
hood. These  are  only  isolated  instances  of  th^  sway 
\Y)iic]^_Savonatrpla  had  gained  over  many  of  the  most 
enlightened  minds  of  the  community. 

Moreover,  there  can  btJ  little  doubt  that  with  a 
considerable  section  of  the  populace  the  ardent  con- 
fidence placed  in  him  as  a  leader  was  immensely 
enhanced  by  his  strong  assertion  of  supernatural 
claims,  by  his  p-Cft'^tatjc^aM  symbolic'  visions,  and  also 
by  that  air  of  certitude  in  announcing  the  designs  of 
the  Almighty  in  passing  affairs  which  often  gave  to 
his^  sermons,  as  George  Eliot  says,  "  the-intex'^atjCif  a 
political  bulletin." 

Accordingly,  in  the  political  service  now  thrust  upon 
him,  and  in  the  conspicuous  share  he  was  henceforth  to 


AMID  THE  THROES  OF  REVOLUTION      85 

take  in  the  public  life  of  the  city,  we  can  see  only  the 
natural  result  of  the  peculiar  influence  and  position 
which  Savonarola  had  gradually  acquired.  Indeed,  his 
discourses  in  the  Duomo  had  already  become  political 
incidents,  and  it  was  inevitable  that  a  man  of  such 
commanding  personality  and  strong  hold  on  the  general 
regard  should  be  toTced  to  come  to  the  front  in  the 
critical  situation  which  had  emerged.  To  Savonarola 
himself  the  constraint  of  circumstances  was  a  call  from 
Heaven.  He  saw  in  it  a  sign  of  the  Supreme  Will  to 
which  it  behoved  him  to  bow  ;  as  he  said  a  short  time 
afterwards,  "  I  was  in  a  safe  haven,  the  life  of  a  friar. 
.  .  .  The  Lord  has  driven  my  barque  into  the  open  sea. 
Before  me  on  the  vast  ocean  I  see  terrible  tempests 
brewing.  Behind  I  have  lost  sight  of  my  haven  ;  the 
wind  drives  me  forward,  and  the  Lord  forbids  my 
return." 

Before  setting  out  on  his  errand  to  Charles,  Savon- 
arola delivered  one  of  his  great  sermons,  imploring  the 
citizens  to  be  steadfast  in  mercy  and  peace.  "  If  you 
would  have  the  Lord  to  continue  His  mercy  towards 
you,"  he  ended  by  saying,  "  be  you  merciful  towards 
your  brethren,  your  friends,  and  even  your  enemies." 
Then,  with  two  of  his  own  friars  as  companions,  he 
departed  on  foot  for  Pisa,  where  the  other  ambassadors 
had  preceded  him.  They  had  had  their  interview  with 
the  French  King  before  Savonarola  arrived,  but  found 
that  Charles  would  promise  nothing,  and  postponed 
all  negotiations  until  he  should  reach  Florence  in 
person. 

Piero  de  Medici,  who  was  still  with  the  King,  took 
alarm  when  the  ambassadors  appeared.  Their  coming 
on  an  Jiidependent  mission  from  the  city  was  to  him 


86  SAVONAROLA 

an  p-viflftiifift  t^hat  some  chanp-e  of  serious  moment  had 
^ifiCmxed.  He  hastened  back  to  Florence,  determmea' 
to  itssert  his  ascendancy,  only  to  discover,  as  it  proved, 
that  the  Signory  were  prepared  to  resist  his  reassump- 
tion  of  power.  He  entered  the  city  on  the  evening  of 
8th  November,  and  when,  on  the  following  day,  he 
presented  himself  with  his  retinue  at  the  magisterial 
palace,  he  was  treated  as  thejbetrayer  of  the  State,  and 
after  a  scene  of  heated  recrimination,  th^  ^yates  were 
^hut  in  his  face.  The  great  bell  of  the  palace-tower 
overhead  rang  out  the  hammer-sound  of  alarm,  and 
the  crowd  thronged  into  the  piazza.  Piero  was  driven 
to  take  shelter  from  the  burst  of  rage  which  quickly 
rose  around  him.  An  attempt  was  made  to  rally  the 
populace  in  his  favour,  but  the  once  powerful  Medicean 
watchword,  Palle,  Palle  ("  The  Balls,  The  Balls  "),  had 
lost  its  spell,  and  was  drowned  in  the  loud  counter- 
cries,  Popolo  e  Liberia !  Ahasso  le  Palle  ("  The  People 
and  Liberty !  "  "  Down  with  the  Balls  !  ").  And  so 
menacing  was  the  attitude  of  all  classes,  that  Piero 
was  obliged  to  seek  safety  in  flight,  first  to  Bologna, 
and  afterwards  to  Venice,  followed  by  a  sentence  of 
outlawry,  which  the  Signory  immediately  passed. 

Thus  was  the  rule  of  the  Medici  in  Florence  over- 
thrown, and  a  Republic  established  once  more.  It  was 
a  hloodl^^.s^^ct  revolution,  and  comparatively  free  from 
excesses,  only  a  few  attempts  being  made  to  loot  the 
houses  of  the  leading  Medici  partisans.  This  singular 
absence  of  scenes  of  violence  and  licence  in  a  crisis  so 
intensely  exciting,  is  ascribed  by  the  common  consent 
of  historians  to  the  higher  nioral  temper  which  Savon- 
"•'^^^  L^i  Prpfjifihinc  ^f^i^  eirf^dlP^^y  i^fii«^rl  into  the  popular 
mi 


AMID  THE  THROES  OF  REVOLUTION      Sy 

Savonarola  himself  was  still  detained  at  Pisa  on  his 
embassy_to  Charles.  The  Fy^(;>.no.h  K'mg  \y7iir'deeplv 
interested  in  the  visit  of  this  remarkable,man.  who  had 
invested  his  o^fi  c^Qscegt  into  Italy  with  all  the  ^nctity 
of  a  mission  from  Heaven.  Here,  it  seemed,  was  a 
prophet  sent  from  tne  Almighty,  whose  message 
hitherto  had  been  encouraging  to  France.  But 
Charles  could  scarcely  have  been  prepared  for  the 
strange  address  which  he  now  received  when  the  dark- 
robed,  sallow-faced,  lustrous-eyed  monk  from  Florence 
was  ushered  into  his  presence — an  address  in  which 
words  of  welcome  were  ominously  mingled  with  utter- 
ances of  admonition  and  warning.  He  told  Charles 
that  he  was  the  Heaven-chosen  instrument  for  the 
reformation  of  Italy,  whose  advent  he  had  prophesied 
for  the  three  previous  years ;  and  then  he  went  on  to 
say :  "  At  length  thou  art  come,  O  King,  as  the  minister 
of  God,  the  minister  of  justice.  May  thy  coming  prove 
to  us  altogether  happy  in  its  results.  It  fills  with  joy 
all  servants  of  Christ,  all  lovers  of  justice,  and  all  who 
are  zealous  for  the  life  of  piety.  Go  forward,  then, 
glad,  secure,  and  triumphant,  since  thou  art  sent  by 
Him  who  triumphed  on  the  cross  for  our  salvation. 
But,  most  Christian  King,  give  ear  to  my  words  and 
lay  them  to  thy  heart.  The  unworthy  servant  of  God 
to  whom  those  things  have  been  revealed  admonishes 
thee  in  the  name  of  the  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost, 
and  in  the  name  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  that  thou 
must  in  all  things  incline  to  mercy ;  but  most  of  all 
towards  this  city  of  Florence,  which,  although  it  labours 
beneath  a  heavy  load  of  transgressions,  contains  many 
true  servants  of  God,  of  both  sexes.  For  their  sake 
thou  must  preserve  this  city,  that  we  may  with  more 


88  SAVONAROLA 

tranquil  mind  pray  for  thee  and  draw  down  the  bless- 
ing of  God  on  this  expedition.  The  same  unworthy 
servant  exhorts  and  admonishes  thee  to  give  all  diligence 
in  the  defence  and  protection  of  the  innocent,  the 
widows,  the  orphans,  and  all  who  deserve  mercy,  but 
most  of  all  to  ijuard  the  honour  of  those  devoted  to 
Christ  in  the  nunneries,  lest  through  thee  sin  should 
more  abound,  and  the  strength  vouchsafed  to  thee  from 
on  high  be  shattered.  And  if,  O  King,  thou  observe 
these  things,  God  will  increase  thy  temporal  kingdom, 
grant  victory  to  thy  arms,  and  at  last  bestow  upon 
thee  the  everlasting  kingdom  of  heaven.  But  ii^thou 
dost  forget  the  work  for  which  the  Lordsends  thee, 

,  He  will  (»VinasP  qiTIOthfir  it^  ^-hy  2k£p  ^^.^ J^^^^  P^^^  upon 

thee  Jiis«»ipath.  These  things  I  tellthee  in  the  name 
of  the  Lord." 

Charles  never  fulfilled  the  sang^uine ,  expectations 
which  Savonarola  entertained  regarding  him.  There 
was  nothing  in  his  character  and  aims  to  warrant 
such  expectations.  He  might  be  the  scourge  of  God 
to  afflict  Italy  for  the  treacherous  intrigues  of  its 
princes,  for  its  miserable  dissensions  and  pervading 
corruption,  but  he  lacked  tl^f^  Ijji^'gfi  llQbJ^Jty  0^  pjirpngA 
which  might  qualify  him  for  any  higher  service.  As 
an  agent  in  restoring  a  righteous  order  in  the  Italian 
States,  or  in  removing  the  abuses  of  the  Church,  he 
was  utterly  incompetent.  Savonarola's  hope  in  him 
was  a  sentimental  delusion.  And  here  we  begin  to  see 
how  the  great  iriar's  reliance,  which  was  now  becoming 
confirmed,  in  the  Divine  inspiration  of  his  own  forecasts 
of^^e;^nts,  was  likely  to  prove  a  snare  oi  serious  risk  to 
himself  and  to  his  work  ;  and  it  is  a  pathetic  reflection, 
which  keeps  forcing  itself   upon   us  from  this  stage 


AMID  THE  THROES  OF  REVOLUTION      89 

onward,  that  the  later  usefulness  of  that  lofty  and 
splendid  mind  should  have  been  marred  as  it  was  by  a 
hallucination  so  devout  and  yet  so  deceptive.  Savon- 
arola believed,  and  believed  sincerely,  that  he  knew 
the  intentions  of  the  Most  High  with  respect  to  the 
French  King's  invasion,  and  he  proclaimed  his  belief 
with  unfaltering  authority ;  but  it  w^as  a  false  con- 
fidence.     The   first   patent   indication  which   Charles 

ffave   of    his   moral    unreliableness   was   in    the   cool 

~  -[    .  II -  — — '■ 

indifference  with  which,  on  his  arrival  at  Pisa,  he 
allowed  its  inhabitants  to  throw  off  their  allegiance  to 
Florence,  thus  aggravating  the  disorders  and  animos- 
ities which  were  already  too  rife  in  the  land.  It 
would  appear,  however,  that  by  his  powerful  and 
solemn  address  Savonarola  produced  for  the  moment  a 
favourable  impression  on  the  French  King's  mind  ;  and 
although  he  obtained  no  definite  assurances  on  behalf 
of  Florence,  he  returned  to  the  city  with  faith  still 
strong,  and  prepared  to  hold  out  some  encouraging 
hopes. 


/ 


CHAPTEE   XI 

Charles  VIII.  in  Florence 

On  the  I7f.b*  of  Novpjnhpr  King-  Charles  entered 
Florence  with  his  army,  and  the  city  was  decked  as 
for  a  festival  in  his  honour.  Banners  waved  from 
windows  and  balconies,  brilliant  draperies  hung  from 
roof  to  roof,  a  blaze  of  colour  filled  the  streets  and  the 
piazzas  through  which  he  was  to  pass.  Amid  dense 
crowds  that  looked  on  with  mingled  wonder  and  fear, 
the  glittering  warrior  host  marched  across  the  Ponte 
Vecchio,  and  on  towards  the  Duomo — the  artillery 
corps  and  their  ponderous  cannons;  the  Swiss  moun- 
taineers carrying  their  burnished  halberds ;  the  Gascon 
infantry  with  their  flashing  swords  ;  the  French  nobles, 
splendidly  mounted  and  attired  in  mantles  embroidered 
with  gold;  the  cavalry  and  their  formidable  steeds; 
the  tall  Scottish  and  north-country  archers  with  their 
long  wooden  bows  —  a  display  q£  military  power 
such    as    had  not  been   witnessed    in    Florence    for 

Attended  by  his  bodyguard  of  a  hundred  men,  and 
under  a  rich  canopy,  rode  Charles  himself  on  his  war- 
horse,  magnificently  arrayed,  with  a  crown  on  his  head 
and  lance  held  level  in  his  hand,  as  a  token  ^at  he 
came  as  a  conqueror.     Despite  his  splendour  of  dress 


CHARLES  VIII.   IN  FLORENCE  91 

and  equipage,  the  French  monarch  presented  a  figure 
unprepossessing  ahnost  to  a  grotesque  degree.  He 
had  a  large  head,  but  puny  limbs.  l^he  Venetian 
Ambassad^  Coniarmi  descri  Bed  him  as  insignificant 
in  appearance,  with  an  ugly  face,  lustreless  eyes, 
enormous  hooked  nose,  thick  lips  which  were  always 
open,  and  nervous  twitching  hands  which  were  never 
still.  Such  in  bodily  presence  was  the  royal  guest 
whom  the  Florentines  welcomed  with  occasional,  though 
by  no  means  enthusiastic,  shouts  of  Viva  Francia  !  on 
that  memorable  day. 

After  joining  with  the  Signory  in  a  service  at  the 
Cathedral,  Charles  was  conducted  to  the  Medici  palace 
in  the  Via  Larga,  which  had  been  prepared  for  his 
reception,  while  his  troops  were  quartered  in  the 
houses  of  the  people.  Then  at  night  the  city  was 
illuminated,  and  for  two  days  thereafter  there  was 
general  mirth  and  feasting,  though  behind  all  the 
gaietjrtK'^  soldiers'  of  the  Republic  lurked  in  secret, 
with  arms  ready  in  case  of  encroachment  by  the 
foreigners  on  the  liberties  which  had  just  recently 
been  won. 

Those  liberties,  it  was  soon  seen,  were  imperilled 
not  only  by  the  insolejice  of  the  French  troops,  but 
also  by  the  manifest  disposition  of  the.  King  to,  sf  mi  re 
the  reinstatement  of  Piero  d^  Mftdipj  «.«  f^.  prinoft 
'^^p^iiin^^^  nn  Fr^^^  Such  a  design  aroused  universal 
alarm,  and  an  assembly  of  the  principal  citizens  was 
held  to  protest  against  it  and  to  devise  measures  for  its 
prevention.  Quarrels  took  place  daily  in  the  streets 
between  the  French  soldiers  and  the  populace,  and  in 
one  of  these,  which  arose  out  of  the  forced  release  of 
some  prisoners  of  war,  the  Swiss  infantry  sallied  forth 


92  SAVONAROLA 

in  martial  strength,  but  met  with  such  resistance  from 
barricades  erected  across  their  path,  and  from  showers 
of  stones  and  other  missiles  hurled  from  housetops  and 
windows,  that  they  were  forced  to  beat  a  retreat,  awed 
by  a  sense  of  the  terrible  ordeal  of  having  to  fight  with 
almost  invisible  foes  in  such  a  labyrihi'li'of  narrow^ 
thorough  in  view  of  '  ihis   menacing  iiiood  of 

feeling,  Charles  found  himself  Qbligfid  ^'i  abandon  his 
proposal  for  Piero's  restoration.  He  saw  that  he  could 
no  longer  affect  "To'  treat  Florence  as  a  conquered  city. 
Nevertheless  the  magistrates  had  the  utmost  difficulty 
in  moderating  his  demands  and  confining  them  within 
such  limits  as  would  leave  the  independence  of  the 
Republic  untouched.  At  length  the  issue  of  the  negoti- 
ations turned  on  the  settlement  of  those  two  points — 
the  sum  of  money  which  Charles  insisted  on  receiving, 
but  which  the  Florentines  deemed  far  too  large;  andjbhe 
claim  put  i Qr.w.ard_tjJ^„hav^e^  a  representative  of  France 
in  the  Florentine  Assembly,  whose  presence  and  assent 

#  shouldJtiejiecggaa£jU;a^^ 

claim  felt  to  be  in^lerable.  When  the  Commissioners  of 
the  Republic  remonstrated,  Charles  broke  into  a  rage, and 
ordered  his  Ultimatum  to  be  read.  The  Commissioners 
declared  it  to  be  impossible  to  comply  with  its  con- 
ditions. "  Then,"  cried  the  King,  with  growing  passion, 
"  we  will  blow  our  trumpets."  Here  Capponi  stepped 
to  the  front,  and,  snatching  the  paper  from  the  secret- 
ary's hand,  he  tore  it  in  pieces,  exclaiming,  "  And  we 
will  ring  our  bells."  Such  bold  language,  destined  to 
be  cherished  with  patriotic  pride  in  the  Florentine 
memory,  re  veal  ed.  ^Jto.-  >jGhar]  g^.s.-tke^-i-n'domitftbjfc  spirit 
^ith  whV^  hP  had  ^^^  deal,  and  he  at  once  drew  back 
from  his  irreconcilable  attitude  under  cover  of  a  coarse 


CHARLES  VIII.   IN  FLORENCE  93 

pleasantry  on  Capponi's  name.  It  was  at  last  agreed 
that  the  King  should  be  recognised  as  the  Protector  of 
Flo^jgji^e  liberty,  that  he  should  be  paid  120,000 
florins,  that  Pisa  and  the  other  fortresses  should  be 
restored  as  soon  as  the  war  with  Naples  came  to  an 
end,  and  that  the  sentence  of  exile  against  Piero  de 
Medici  should  be  allowed  to  remairTtn  f oi-ceT'  The  con- 
ditions of  the  treaty  TKus"~arranged  were  formally 
sworn  to  in  the  Cathedral,  and  then  the  bells  were 
rung,  bonfires  were  lit,  and  there  was  great  rejoicing. 

Still,  all  danger  was  not  yet  past.  Charles  and  his 
army  lingered  in  the  city,  giving  rise  to  fresh  sus- 
picion, and  to  irritation  and  disorder  out  of  which 
grave  consequences  threatened  to  spring.  Shops  were 
closed,  business  was  suspended,  and  citizens  and  soldiers 
were  constantly  on  the  point  of  coming:  to  open  strife 
in  the  streets.  At  this  disfeacting  and  hazardous 
juncture  oT*  affairs,  it  was  Savonarola  who  solved 
the  difficulty  and  saved  Florence.  He  had  been  doing 
his  utmost  in  the  pulpit  to  calm  the  public  mind 
during  the  strained  and  anxious  days  through  which 
the  city  had  been  passing;  and  now,  when  asked  to 
use  his  influence  with  the  French  King  and  hasten 
his  departure,  he  at  once  responded  to  the  call  and 
braved  the  risks.  Making  his  way  to  the  palace,  and 
overcoming  somehow  the  opposition  of  the  officials  and 
nobles,  who  dreaded  the  effect  of  his  visit  in  diminish- 
ing their  chances  of  plunder,  he  gained  admission  to 
the  royal  presence.  He  told  Charles  that  his  stay  was 
r^gngimgr  ^fyf^f^^.  injury  to  the  cJtv  and  to  his  own  enter- 
prise; that  he  was  wasting  time  and  forgetting  the 
duty  laid  upon  him  by  Providence.  "  Listen  now,"  he 
said,  "to  the  voice   of  God's  servant.      Go  thy  way 


94  SAVONAROLA 

without  delay,  and  do  not  bring  ruin  on  this  city,  lest 
the  anger  of  the  Lord  be  roused  against  thee,  and  He 
choose  another  instrument  to  carry  out  His  designs." 
By  this  prophet-like  appeal  he  gained  the  result 
desired,  and  on  28th  November  Charles  left  Florence, 
and  the  citizens  awoke  as  from  a  nightmare  of 
anxiety. 

Ere  they  departed,  however,  the  foreigners  were 
guilty  of  an  act  of  ruthless  cupidity  and  destructive- 
ness.  The  sumptuously  furnished  Medici  palace  was 
ransacked  of  its  treasures,  and  transformed  into  a 
wreck,  by  ihe  barons,  generals,  and  attendants  of  the 
King.  They  seized  the  many  priceless  specimens  of 
the  arts  with  which  the  house  abounded,  and  which 
had  rendered  it  the  admiration  of  strangers  and  one 
of  the  chief  ornaments  of  the  city.  Exquisite  pieces  of 
fi,nii\9.j\i  smilpture.  vases,  cameos,  and  gems  of  various 
kinds,  more  estimable  for  their  workmanship  than  for 
the  value  of  their  material,  shared  in  the  wholesale 
spoliation ;  and,  in  the  words  of  Roscoe,  "  all  that  the 
assiduity  and  the  riches  of  Lorenzo  and  his  ancestors 
had  been  able  to  accumulate  in  half  a  century,  was 
dissipated  and  demolished  in  a  day."  But  the  danger 
was  removed,  and  the  Florentines  were  glad.  The 
independence  of  the  Republic  was  now  safe;  and 
Savonarola  s  place  m  the  affections  of  the  people  was 
still"  further  confirmed  by'^e^'eftbrt  he  had  made  to 
accompllsirnrat  ehdi 


CHAPTER  XII 

The  Preacher  as  Lawgiver 

No  sooner  were  the  French  gone  than  the  interest  of 
all  classes  in  Florence  was  concentrated  on  the  work  of 
political .  re-CQJQS-truction  which  lay  waiting  to  be  done. 
Now  that  the  rule  of  the  Medici  was  overthrown,  the 
government  of  the  State  had  to  be  qr^^ised  on  a  new^ 
b^sis :  and  here  the  difficulties  that  usually  attend  a 
revolutionary  movement  arose.  The  air  was  full  of 
excitement,  and  in  the  public  mind,  long  unaccustomed 
to  habits  of  self-reliance  in  political  action,  there  was 
no'^efinite  conception  as  to  the  form  w^hich  the  new 
constitution  should  take.  The  prevailing  desire  was  to 
secure  fg^  eypry  respectable  citiz^p  r>nt  nn)y  the  right 
to  vote  in  the  election  of  his  rulers,  but  also  a  chance 
of  personally  enjoying  a  short  term  of  rule.  This  was 
now  the  Florentine  ideal  of  liberty,  but  how  to  get  it 
realised  was  far  from  clear. 

The  members  of  the  Signory  appointed  under  Piero 
de  Medici  had  been  obliged  to  remain  in  office  and  ad- 
minister affairs  until  the  dangers  of  the  French  occupa- 
tion were  past.  Then  they  summoned  a  Parlamento, 
an  assembly  of  the  whole  body  of  the  people.  The 
great  bell  tolled,  and  the  citizens  crowded  into  the 
piazza  in  front  of  the  Signorial  palace,  to  hear  and 

95 


96  SAVONAROLA 

decide  upon  the  proposals  which  the  Signory,  from  the 
ringhiera,  or  balcony  near  the  palace  steps,  had  to 
submit.  This  was  the  ancient  form  of  procedure, 
which,  while  it  gave  the  appearance  of  a  free  share  in 
the  government  to  every  citizen,  was  yet  liable  to  be 
turn edTlb  account  for  sellish  ends  by  designing  politi- 
cians and  by  ambitious  men,  who  by  plausible  arts 
were  able  to  gain  the  ear  and  sway  the  votes  of  the 
undiscerning  multitude.  As  yet,  however,  no  other 
course  suggested  itself  than  that  of  advancing  along 
the  lines  rendered  familiar  by  traditional  usage,  and 
accordingly  the  first  attempts  at  reconstruction  were 
somewhat  crude.  'The  cniet" measure  recommelided  to 
Itl'W  Ais^iiiiibly  was  the  appointment  of  a  Committee  of 
Twgili^^the  Accopiatori,  as  they  were  callejl ;  and  to 
these  it  was  proposed  to  grant  the  right  oi  Balia,  a 
sort  of  dictatorial  power,  with  authority  toTel^  the 
Signory  and  the  other  leading^fficials,  the  Accopiatori 
themsel ves  t(71Gie*Q2S^ed^§;^^r^  and  the  members 
of  the  SignQj;x£very  two_ months.  The  people,  elated 
by  the  new  consciousness  of  indepffldence  and  direct 
control  in  State  affairs,  passed  the  measure  with  accla- 
mation. 
E'  In  those  first  efibrts  of  political  reorganisation 
avonarola  took  no  active  part.  He  was  busily  occu- 
pied in  endeavouring  to  assuage  the  popular  unrest, 
and  in  relieving  the  distress  caused  by  the  general  sus- 
pension of  business.  He  made  special  appeals  in  his 
sermons  on  behalf  of  the  needy,  entreating  the  rich  to 
give  of  their  abundance,  and  to  sacrifice  their  pomps 
and  luxuries,  in  order  to  meet  the  destitution  existing 
around  them.  He  urged  that  the  shops  should  be  re- 
npPT^Pi^]^  -y^r^yV  prnvirjft^^  tor"^e  Unemployed,  and  collec- 


THE  PREACHER   AS  LAWGIVER-^  97 

tions  made  in  all  the  churches,  declaring  that,  though 
it  was  the  will  of  God  that  evil  customs  and  unjust 
laws  should  be  abolished,  it  was  still  imperative  on 
men  to  fulfil  their  obvious  duties.  "  This,"  he  said,  "  is 
a  time  for  words  to  give  place  to  deeds.  The  Lord 
hath  said,  I  was  an  hungered  and  ye  gave  Me  no  meat ; 
I  was  naked  and  ye  clothed  Me  not.  He  never  said, 
Ye  built  Me  not  a  beautiful  church  or  a  fine  convent. 
The  work  of  renovation,  then,  must  begin  with  charity." 
Now,  as  ever,  he  strove  to  enforce  the  practical  side  of 
religion,  and  laboured  to  promote  the  welfare  of  the 
city  by  infusing  the  Christian  spirit  into  its  ordinary 
social  life. 

Soon,  however,  he  was  drawn  once  more  into  the  full 
current  of  political  activity.  From  the  outset  the 
newly-framed  constitution  would  not  work.  Its  ar- 
rang'^niBlitS  WBl'^  6o6"vague  and  loosely  defined ;  and 
amid  the  friction  and  discontent  thereby  engendered 
the  task  of  remoulding  the  government  had  to  be  begun 
afresh.  The  serious  disadvantage  was  that  the  sixty 
years  of  Medici  rule  had  deprived  the  prominent  men  of  ^ 
anylesT^^^^Vlmm  Ift  legislative  business,  and  there-*^ 
fore  there  was  no  man  competent  to  take  the  lead.  A 
school  of  young  political  thinkers,  with  the  subtle 
Machiavelli  among  them,  was  growing  up ;  yet  they 
were  but  theoretical  students,  who  had  no  practical 
acquaintance  with  men  or  matters  of  State ;  while  the 
conspicuous  citizens  who  had  held  the  magistracy  were 
familiar  only  with  the  bare  routine  of  official  duty,  and 
utterly  unversed  in  the  making  of  laws.  During  the 
discussions  which  arose,  the  Vp.npi^jfi.n  form  of  govern- 
^^^^1  W^?  vopQQforily  ^]^  nrnr^jgf  arl  as  au  example  which  it 
might  be  possible  in  some  measure  to  adopt ;  and  in 
7 


98  SAVONAROLA 

the  heat  of  controversy  over  this  question  time  was 
being  wasted  and  people's  minds  were  becoming  con- 
fused. 

Then  came  Savoujarola's  unique  and  supreme  oppor- 
tunity, which  he  felt  irresistibly  impelled  to  use.  Ever 
alive  to  the  movements  of  life  and  feeling  around  him, 
he  had  watched  the  commotion  keenly,  and  pondered 
the  problems  which  had  to  be  faced.  He  realised  the 
danger  which  hung  over  the  city  so  long  as  its  govern- 
ment remained  unsettled,  for  he  knew  that  the  adherents 
of  th^jiLiijtfdjer,  who  had  been  allowed  to  return  un- 
molested to  their  homes  mainly  through  the  forbear- 
ance which  he  had  enjoined,  were  waiting  and  hoping 
for  the  chance  of  restoring  the  Medici  to  power,  or  of 
seizing  the  reins  of  ^  government  in  tfieir  own  hands. 
He  knew,  moreover,  that  the  thoug^y  of  men  were 
turning  to  himself  for  guidance  in  their  perplexity. 
Once  more  the  force  of  strong  cnaracter,  intellectual 
capacity,  and  transparent  disinterestedness  was  press- 
ing the  task  of  leadership  upon  the  eloquent  monk 
who  had  already  proved  a  tower  of  strength  in  the 
exigencies  of  the  commonwealth.  Counsel,  assistance, 
and  even  commands,  were  expected  from  him  in  the 
difficult  task  of  remodelling  the  constitution,  and  it 
was  less  possible  for  him  now  than  ever  to  stand  by 
and  be  silent. 

Accordingly,  on  the  third  Sunday  in  Advent  of  this 
same  year  1494,  he  began  to  speak  out  on  the  public 
questions  of  the  hour,  and  in  doing  so  he  assumed  the 
authoritative  tone  of  a  lawgiver  directly  inspired  by 
God.  In  his  sermon  on  that  day,  and  the  other  ser- 
mons that  followed,  he  made  it  evident  that  he  had 
studied  matters  of  politics  to  some  purpose,  and  that 


THE  PREACHER  AS  LAWGIVER        99 

he  had  a  surprisingly  clear  grasp  of  political  principles. 
Discussing  'the  respective  merits  of  monarchy  and  re- 
publicanism, he  declared  monarchy  to  be  the  best  form 
of  government  when  the  monarch  is  a  good  man,  but 
when  the  monarch  is  a  bad  man  the  worst  form  pos- 
sible. "  In  Italy,  and  especially  in  Florence,"  he  said, 
"  where  both  strength  and  intellect  abound,  where  men 
have  sharp  wits  and  restless  spirits,  the  government 
of  one  could  only  exist  as  a  tyranny.  .  .  .  The  only 
government  that  can  suit  us  is  the  government  of  xhe 
citizens,  and  one  in  which  all  have  a  share."  He 
warned  the  Florentines  against  electing  one  man  as 
chief  to  domineer  over  all  the  rest.  He  told  them  to 
purify  their  hearts,  give  heed  to  the  common  good, 
forget  private  interests,  and  assured  them  that  if  they 
reformed  the  city  in  this  earnest  temper  it  would  be- 
come more  glorious  than  ever  yet  it  had  been,  and  they 
should  begin  the  reformation  of  all  Italy,  and  spread 
their  wings  over  the  earth  to  reform  all  nations ;  and 
breaking  out  into  prayer,  he  cried,  "  Open,  O  Lord,  the 
heart  of  this  people,  that  they  may  understand  those 
things  which  are  in  my  mind,  and  which  Thou  hast 
revealed  and  commanded." 

Then  he  went  on  to  avow  that  his  sole  ^reason  for 
interfering  with  matters  of  Staff  "w^f^iS  hi.s  p/i>n^^rn  for 
men's  salvation.  He  Iiadno  care  for  ^politics  except  as 
an  ingtr\imfi!l1i ,  ^f  jm>rality'  ^^  temporal  good,  he  in- 
'^isted7  must  he  subordinate  to  the  moral  and  religious 
good  on  which  it  depends.  "  If  ye  have  heard  it  said  " 
—  as  it  had  been  said  by  Cosimo  de  Medici — '•'  that 
States  cannot  be  governed  by  Pater  Nosters,  remember 
that  this  is  the  theory  of  tyrants,  of  men  who  are  the 
enemies  of  God  and  the  common  weal,  a  theory  in- 


lOO  SAVONAROLA 

vented  to  oppress  and  not  to  elevate  and  free  the  city. 
On  the  contrary,  if  ye  would  have  a  good  go_vernment, 
ye  must  submit  to  God.  If  it  were  not  so,  I  should 
certainly  not  concern  myself  for  a  State  that  should  not 
be  subject  to  Him." 

At  last  he  came  to  the  practical  point,  and  announced 
his  conviction  that  a.  Ora.nrl  (Inn noil  nrx^  i.ha  Venetian 
plan  was  tlie  best,  adapted  for  Florence.  He  believed, 
he  said,  that  the  Venetian  model  would  be  the  one 
chosen.  But  they  need  not  be  ashamed  to  imitate  the 
Venetians  and  their  constitution,  "  because  they  too 
received  it  from  the  Lord,  from  whom  cometh  every- 
thing that  is  good.  Ye  have  seen  that  ever  since  that 
government  has  existed  in  Venice  no  divisions  or  dis- 
sensions of  any  sort  have  arisen  in  that  city ;  and 
tteret'ore  we  must  believe  that  it  was  according  to 
the  will  of  God." 

""  The  views  thus  propounded  from  the  Cathedral 
pulpit  Savonarola  afterwards  published  in  his  Trattato 
circa  il  Beggimento  e  Governo  delta  Cittd  di  Firenza 
(Treatise  respecting  the  Rule  and  Government  of  the 
City  of  Florence).  They  were  views  in  which  he  was 
strongly  supported  by  two  men  who  stood  out  most 
clearly  as  representatives  of  the  popular  party — 
Antonio  Soderini  and  Francesco  Valori.  Soderini,  a 
doptor  of  law  who  had  served  for  some  years  as 
Ambassador  at  Venice,  had  been  fa.vgiira>>1y  (Tnprf>j;;,^prl 
by  what  he  saw  of  the  method  of  government  there, 
and  was  anxious  to  obtain  a  trial  for  it  in  Florence. 
Valori  was  an  old  partisan  of  the  Medici  family,  and 
had  filled  many  posts  under  Lorenzo,  but  partly 
through  disgust  with  Piero's  misrule,  and  partly 
through   warm    religious   sympathy,   he   had    become 


THE  PREACHER  AS  LAWGIVER       loi 

on^^of  Savonarola's  Tym^f.  Hp.vnf,prl  fnlln-^gftrs     He  was 
a  man  of  no  great  mental  strength,  but  honest,  daring, 
large-hearted,  and  an  ardent  friend  of  republican  liberty. 
These,  along  with  Capponi  and  many  other  men  of 
note,  were  delighted  to  have  the  dim  ideas  floating  in 
their  minds  put  into  definite  shape   and  confidently 
championed  by  one  so  eminent.     The  feeling  of  satis- 
faction was  shared  by  the  general   community,   who 
were  relieved  to  find  that  jbheir  a,(lnnirpd  Frf\  (rirojamo 
was 4)repared  to  guide  them  bv  a  clear  and  intelligible 
nonrsft  ni^t  ^f  their  bewilderment.     There  was  ai;^.  op^ 
posing  party,  however,  headed  by  Guid'  Antoni^JTes- 
pucci,  a  distinguished  member  of  the  legal  profession, 
who  maintained  that  a  Grand  Council  after  the  manner 
of  thft  Vf^^fiti^.Tis  would  be  too  democratic  an  institu- 
tion  fqr  suo^h  ajrity  as  Florence,!  whose  lower  classes 
were  more  numerous  and  restless,  and  also  less  con- 
trollable in  temper,  than   the  Ymetians  were.     This 
party  leaned  rather  to  an  olio-amhical  form  of  polity. 
But  they  were  left  with  slender  prospects  of  success 
after  Savonarola  had  spoken.     His  powerful  advocacy 
of  the  Venetian  model  weighed  decisively  in  turning 
the  scale.     The  leading  members  of  the  Signory  con- 
sulted him  at  San  Marco,  and  even  asked  him  to  meet 
with  them  at  the  Palazzo  and  preach.     Then  one  day 
he  invited  the  magistrates  and  all  the  people,  except- 
ing the  women  and  children,  to  assemble  in  the  Cathe- 
dral.    He  exhorted  his  immense  audience  to  lay   to 
heart  the  lessons  of  the  past,  and  so  to  use  their  power 
that  freedom,  henceforward  should  not  be  the  privilege 
of   the   few   for   the  oppression  of  the  many,   but  a 
univ^£gal_benefit.      And  after  this   introduction,    he 
proceeded  to  lay   down  what  he  believed   to  be  the 


">*■. 


I02  SAVONAROLA 

igur  great  princi:ples  which  formed  the  groundwork 

r^^  all  true  g-overnment : — 
'^  (1)  The  ff^^.r  <^f  <^^d  f^rl  the  reformation  of  manners ; 
(2)  zeal  for  popular  government  and  the  public  good, 
above  _^)}„  private  interes^T  (3)  a_^eneral  amnesty, 
whereby  the  friends  of  the  past  Governmeni"  should 
be  absolved  from  all  their  crimes  and  have  their  fines 
remitted,  and  indulgence  be  shown  towards  those  who 
are  indebted  to  the  State;  (4)  a  form  of  universal 
government  which  shou1(^  (;;,(7|T)pi;-fi^,end  all  citizens  who, 
according  to  th  e  ar)  ci,Qnt  statutes,  had  a  right  to  share 
J      in  pijMic^airs. 

He  brought  his  discourse  to  a  close  by  a  clear  and 
emphatic  recommendation  once  more  of  a  Grand  Coun- 
cil after  the  manner  of  the  Venetians,  modified  by 
such  arrangements  as  might  render  it  more  suited  to 
the  genius  and  temper  of  the  Florentine  people. 

This  pronouncement  virtually  settled  the  question. 
The  air^of  authority  with  which  it  was  given  forth, 
sustained  as  liT  was  by  the  recollection  of  the  mar- 
vellous vindications  of  the  preacher's  former  utter- 
ances, mightily  impressed  the  popular  mind.  Men  of 
action  and  knowledge  of  the  world  were  amazed  at 
the  large  view  and  firm  mastery  displayed  in  dealing 
with  a  problem  so  tangled  and  complex.  The  result 
was  seen  in  the  speedy  adoption  of  the  very  measures 
which  Savonarola  had  proposed.  On  th^,23rd  of 
December  a  law  was  passed  by  an  overwhelming 
majqnty; '  establishing" a"'GTgg:L  CoillKill  eudow^d'  with 
powe5!^.n''p1^o.t.  thfi  ffhief  ma^a-istrates'''^:^^ntrol  the 
actigjauoLthe  State.  Eligibility  to  membershijuin  this 
Council  was  restricted  to  tlie  cTass~brcitizens  who 
ha:±Tea;ched  twenty-nine  years  pf  aj^e  and  had  paid 


THE  PREACHER  AS  LAWGIVER      103 

taxes,  and  who  also  ranked  as  benefiziati,  i.e.  had  in 
their  own  person  or  in  the  person  of  their  immediate 
ancestors  enjoyed  the  benefit  of  holding,  or  being 
proposed  for,  one  of  the  higher  offices.  In  view  of 
such  a  provision,  it  ^^^m^hf^  P«-i<i  th^t  thft  T)^^  con- 
stitution was  extravagantly  democratic.  As  it  proved, 
the  number  of  benefiziati  of  the  required  age  at  the 
time  of  the  first  election  was  comparatively  small — 
only  3200  out  of  a  population  of  90,000.  This  body 
was  again  divided  into  three  sections,  each  section 
fulfilling  the  duties  of  government  in  turn  for  a  term 
of  six  months.  In  order  to  provide  for  a  gradual 
widening  of  the  range  of  political  privilege,  it  was 
further  enacted  that  every  three  years  sixty  citizens 
who  were  not  benefiziati,  and  twenty  young  men  of 
the  age  of  twenty-four,  should  be  chosen  for  member- 
ship in  the  Great  Council. 

There  was  also  instituted  a  lesser  Council  of  Eighty, 
the^  Ottanta,  which  formed  a  so£LjQ£..aaCLata»Qr^upper 
chamber,  to  consult  with  the  Signory  once  a  week, 
and  in  conjunction  with  the  other  officials  to  appoint 
ambassadors  and  conduct  foreign  and  military  affairs. 
This  Council  was  to  be  renewed  every  six  months,  and 
its  members  were  to  be  not  less  than  forty  j?^ears  of 

It  was  in  the  S^igpory.  whose  members  were  elected 
by  the  Great  Council  and  changed  every  two  months, 
that  all  new  laws  were  first  to  E^proposed  and  dis- 
cyis^ed.  Then,  if  approved,  they  were  to  be  brought 
befora  the  Council  of  Eighty,  and  from  there  they 
were  to  be  carried  to  the  Grea.tPT'  (^jnincil,  which  alone 
would  have  authority  to  pronounce  the  final  decision, 
the  vote  bemg  taken  in  silence,  ancJ  no  one  having  the 


I04  SAVONAROLA 

right  to  speak  except  by  the  request  of  the  Signory, 
and  that  only  in  favour  of  the  measure  submitted. 

There  was  also  instituted  another  small  body  of 
Ten,  whose  duty  it  was  to  deciae  on  the  remittance 
ot^  taxes  and  unpaid  fines  imposed  by  the  Medici 
Government,  and  to  take  means  for  a  more  equitable 
revis^ion  of  th^  ;who^f;>.  {-tystem  of  taxation.  This  was 
a  question  which  Savonarola  held  to  be  acutely  press- 
ing, and  with  painstaking  earnestness  he  strove  to 
obtain  the  substitution  of  some  more  just  arrangement 
^Jja  place  of  the  arbitrary  methods  till  then  in  force. 
As  the  result  of  his  efforts,  a  new  law  was  passed 
which^"  regulated  all  assessments  by  a  uniform  prin- 
ciple,  and,  by'Tevymg  a  payment  of  ten  per  cent,  on 
aift"  Thcome  from  real  property,  provided  for  a  more 
impai::tiafl   distribution  of  the   public   burdens.     This 

^ —  was  a  reform  "which  allayed  many  a  grievance,  and 
proved  an  untold  bp.npfjt  to  Florp.nce  for  many  a  day. 
It  was,  moreover,  decreed  that  every  enactment  of  the 
State,  instead  of  being  drawn  out  as  heretofore  in 
Latin,  the  language  of  scholars,  should  be  written  in 
Italian,  the  tongue  of  the  people. 

^— .^^..  On  another  point  of  considerable  importance  Savon- 
arola exerted  his  influence — the  establishment  of  a 
right  of  appeal  in  the  case  of  political  ounces.  In 
the  Council  tor  dealing  with  such  offences  the  ancient 
statute  required  a  majority  of  two-thirds  ere  a  heavy 
sentence  could  be  pronounced.  This  was  what  was 
styled  the  Law  of  the  Six  Beans — the  Sei  Fave,  beans 
being  the  means  by  which  voting  was  conducted 
in  Florence.  Savonarola's  fear  was  that  a  court  so 
small,  the  members  of  which,  moreover,  were  changed 
every  few  months,  might  be  liable  to  impulses  of  party 


THE  PREACHER  AS   LAWGIVER       105 

feeling  and  betrayed  into  acts  of  injustice  towards 
political  opponents;  and  by  advocating  a  right  of 
appeal  he  endeavoured  to  avoid  ttiat  danger.  He 
gained'^nis  object  so  far.  The  right  of  appeal  was 
formally  decreed,  though  not  pre'tfl'SGly  111  thu  ftWm 
which  he  desired.  His  proposal  was  that  a  special 
Council  of  Eighty  should  be  chosen  from  the  members 
of  the  Great  Council,  to  serve  as  a  check  on  the  abso- 
lute authority  of  the  Six  Beans,  believing  that  such 
a  tribunal  would  be  less  readily  swayed  by  factious 
bitterness  on  the  one  hand,  or  by  outbursts  of  popular 
vehemence  on  the  other.  But  the  law,  as  ultimately 
passed,  enacted  that  the  Great  Council  itself  was  the 
body  to  which  the  appeal  should  be  made. 

Thus  step  by  step  the  fibrin  of  th^  nftw  p.onsf.itntion 

of  Florence  w;as  built  up.  It  was  a  work  of  several 
months',  absorbing  attention  and  exciting  lively  de- 
bate among  all  ranks  in  the  city ;  but  the  guiding 
spirit  in  it  all  was  the  Prior  of  San  Marco.  Every 
fresh  measure  introduced  was  preceded  by  one  or 
more  sermons  from  him,  in  which  the  subject  was 
handled  with  a  point,  vigour,  and  practical  insight 
into  the  requirements  of  the  situation  which  strongly 
commended  it  to  the  popular  intelligence.  Savonarola 
treated  the  questions  of  life  with  the  mind  of  a  lay- 
man rather  than  that  of  an  ecclesiastic.  He  had  in 
him  the  spirit  of  the  earlier  monks.  The  monks  were 
originally  laymen  pure  and  simple,  and  it  was  only 
after  they  had  existed  for  centuries  that  they  became 
infected  with  the  ecclesiastical  spirit,  and  contracted 
the  narrow  professionalism  of  view  by  which  the 
ecclesiastical  spirit  is  so  frequently  characterised.  It 
is  probable  that  he  was  in  frequent  consultation  with 


^ 


io6  SAVONAROLA 

the  public-spirited  men  who  were  actively  engaged  in 
meeting  the  exigencies  of  the  time,  and  many  of  whom 
placed  great  reliance  on  his  sincerity  and  wisdom. 
Yet  obviously  his  was  the  ruling^  _  anim  ating  mind. 
His  ideas,  his  very  words,  ^ere  echoed  in  the  d'e- 
liberations  of  the  Signorial  palace,  and  the  decisions 
reached  were  but  the  formal  reproduction  of  the 
proposals  which  he  had  advanced.  He  stood  now  in 
^  position  hitherto  unprecedented  in  the  history  of 
Christendom — that  of  a  ^preacher  dictating  from  the 
»|ipi:)1pit  thf^.  policy  and  business  of  a  State,  there  was 
no  abatement  of  his  zeal  for  the  moral  and  spiritual 
elevation  of  the  people ;  he  was  still  fervently  intent 
on  proclaiming  the  great  truths  of  religion  and  win- 
ning men  into  obedience  to  God.  But  profoundly 
fl.nvi(^i^.c^  for  hh^.  YT^Jfare,  of^bhe  city,  and  positively 
convinced  of  the .  Piyj^^^  enlightenment  given  him,  he 
was  impelled  to  assume  ^^he  function  of  legislative 
director,  and  to  use  his  _power.as  a  relig-ious.  teacher 
m  establishing  a  form  of  govermnent^^which  he  be- 
lieved to  bejn  accordance  with  the  will  of  God.  His 
utterances  in  the  Cathedral  rang  witn  an  accent  of 
Heaven-born  inspiration  which  never  faltered.  He 
stood  there  and  spoke  as  the  prophet  of  the  Lord,  like 
another  Moses,  another  Samuel,  proclaiming  the  behests 
of  the  Eternal  King  whose  loyal  subjects  he  wished  the 
Florentines  to  be ;  and,  conscious  in  himself  of  no  self- 
aggrandising  aims,  bent  only  on  founding^  a  healthier 
fin(\  hg^pier  civic  and  political  life  on  t^g  ^sT,^re  principles 
of  j Uftti Cifi  ni}[^"V^g^^^'^V »r <^«« I  he  gave  forth  his  judg- 
ments on  the  questions  at  issue  with  an  enthusiasm  so 
U contagious,  and  an  energy  of  conviction  so  overpowering, 
as  to  compel  general  assent  and  strike  opposition  dumb. 


THE  PREACHER  AS  LAWGIVER      107 

And  many  competent  witnesses,  free  from  suspicion 
of  bias  in  Savonarola's  favour,  have  declared  their 
admiration  of  the  form  of  government  established  in 
Florence  by  his  means.  Professor  Villari  quotes  the 
testimony  of  such  eminent  political  thinkers  as 
Machiavelli,  Giannotti,  and  Francesco  Guicciardini 
—  themselves  Florentines  —  in  proof  of  the  wise, 
moderate,  and  balanced  character  of  the  remodelled 
constitution,  which  avoided  alike  the  extremes  of 
aristocratic  exclusiveness  and  democratic  turbulence, 
and  secured  the  largest  amount  of  privilege  and  well- 
ordered  freedom  compatible  with  the  circumstances  of 
the  time.  It  has  been  the  frankly  expresseS  verdict 
of  many  since  that  the  political  system  then  framed 
was  the  best  and  most  just  that  the  Florentine  people 
ever  enjoyed.  The  chief  defect  detected  in  it,  both  by 
contemporary  and  later  writers,  was  its  failure  to  jpro- 
vide.  for  a  Qonfolonie/re,  or  Pffipjld^^^  ^^^  lif^»  or  at 
least  a  President  whose  tenure  of  offipft-gV»r>n1r1  extend 
over  a  period  of  ye^ys  instead  of  only  over  a  few 
mojj^t^s.  Yet  even  those  who  have  advanced  this 
criticism  have  been  constrained  to  acknowledge  that, 
in  the  condition  of  feeling  and  of  parties  then  existing 
in  Florence,  the  difficulties  connected  with  such  a  pro- 
vision, particularly  the  difficulty  of  selection,  would 
have  been  a  serious  peril  at  the  outset  of  the  new 
regime.  The  wonder  ever  remains  that  a  preaching 
friar,  whose  vocation  afforded  no  special  training  in 
the  busmSss  75f '  Stat6,'  should  Have  been  the^jmoving 
spirit  angTjtresidmg  genius  in  reorganising  the  Re- 
public on  lines  so  sagacious  and,  at  that  stage  of 
history,  so  practically  sound. 


CHAPTEK   XIII 

The  Dream  of  a  Theocracy 

A  REVOLUTION  had  been  accomplished  and  a  republi-  ^ 
can  government  restored  to  Florence,  and  all  without 
the  deplorable  ^-^^^Qoc^no  r^^  noi*' P^^^ftdf'T^j  ^^^'  blf^fnl^hnl 
which  in  those  days  were  the  usual  accompaniments  of 
sudden  political  change.  Thanks  to  the  exertions  of 
Savonarola^  partisan '  lury  and  popular  violence  had 
been  kept  under  a  singutaT*^jTT"Kappy  restraint.  The 
refoun3ingofaTree*'Tonsn'fu^  the 

citizens  with  emphatic  demonstrations  of  joy ;  and  to 
mark  the  opening  of  a  new  era  in  the  history  and  for- 
tunes of  the  city,  the  famous  bronze  statue  of  Judith 
and  Holofernes  by  Donatello,  which  had  formerly  be- 
longed to  the  Medici,  was  set  up  at  the  gateway  of 
the  Signorial  palace,  bearing  an  inscription  which 
stated  that  it  had  been  placed  there  by  the  citizens  as 
a  memorial  of  the  safety  of  the  commonwealth. 

In  the  meantime,  amid  all  the  stjaia-  of  .iJjJTefii^ng 
the  -rwnr]^  ^f  political  reconstruction,  a  remarkable 
effect  had  been  produced  on  Savonarola's  own  mind. 
We  have  seen  how,  in  those  exciting  months  at  the 
close  of  1494  and  the  beginning  of  1495,  the  Floren- 
tines of  all  ranks  had  put  themselves  under  his  guid- 
ance and  accepted  his  leadership  as  the  messenger  of 

108  ""v.^.— — 


THE  DREAM  OF  A  THEOCRACY      109 

HAy/^T)  in  tit) p  Hn^'^g^^  thfiir  L'tr"  This  ready  sub- 
Qjyyggj^^gjlg^s  on  their  part,  and  the  enthusiastic  con- 
fidence reposed  in  him,  woke  into  new  energy  and 
vividness  a  conception  which  had  hovered  before  his 
thought  for  many  years.  Ever  since  he  found  his 
true  DO,wer  in  the  ];;>,i,4l^j,t  Jt  had  been  the  cherished  aim 
of  his  heart  to  convert  Florence  into  a  city  of  the 
Heavenly  King.  He  ^^-^fliltfiyi  llf  ^[  thftnPT-aPv  a  strictly 
ordered  ChristijftnState.  in  which  ^^uyaaj^uaJite- should 
be  suppressed,  social  and  civic  life  be  ruled  by  the 
precepts  of  the  Gospel,  charity,  righteousness,  and  the 
fear  of  God  be  enthroned  in  men's  hearts,  and  private 
intftrp.st  sap.rifidprl  in  thp  n^^^^HTI  3^^^  And  now  that 
he  had  attained  his  extraordinary  position  as  virtual 
arbiter  o^  the  pit:y.'s  destinies,  he  was  encouraged  to 
believe  that  the  time  had  come  for  translating  this 
fair  dream  into  a  reality.  That  unique  concurrence  of 
circumstances  which  placed  him  where  he  stood — was 
it  not  a  sign  from  above  that  the  grand  task  which 
had  long  fired  his  hopes  was  at  last  made  possible 
and  should  now  be  essayed  ?  Florence  was  a  city  be- 
loved of  God,  a  peculiar  object  of  celestial  favour  and 
care,  destined  to  be  the  scene  of  Divine  manifestations 
and  to  stand  as  a  wi^tness  of  the  truth  to  all  the  States 
(liCCaiAd.  That  he  had  long  believed,  and  often  ex- 
pressly declared,  and  the  opportunity,  as  it  seemed, 
had  arrived  for  lifting  the  chosen  city  to  the  full  proof 
of  its  privilege  in  the  designs  of  the  Supreme.  He 
would  change  Florence  into  a  home  of  moral  rectitude 
and  political  freedom ;  he  would  rally  its  citizens  to- 
gether as  the  subjects  of  the  Most  High,  and  the  reign 
of  justice  and  purity  would  begin.  He  himself  would 
be  the  viceroy  of  Heaven,  declaring  the  will  of  the 


no  SAVONAROLA 

Invisible  Lord,  and  enforcing  the  laws  which  he  was 
commissioned  to  reveal.  It  was  a  bold  idea,  and  there 
was  boldness  also  in  the  steps  taken  to  carry  it  out. 
The  first  announcement  of  it  gave  rise  to  an  extra- 
ordinary exhibition  of  enthusiasm.  It  was  in  one  of 
his  early  political  sermons  from  the  Book  of  Haggai, 
during  the  Advent  of  ]  494.  Discoursing  on  the  pre- 
ference which  some  might  be  imagined  to  entertain  for 
a  monarchical  form  of  government,  and  holding  his 
audience  for  a  while  in  suspense,  the  preacher  ex- 
claimed, "Well,  Florence,  God  is  willing  to  satisfy 
thee,  and  to  give  thee  a  Head,  a  King  to  govern  thee. 
This  King  is  Christ.  The  Lord  will  govern  thee  Him- 
self, if  thou  consent,  O  Florence.  Suffer  thyself  to  be 
guided  by  Him.  .  .  .  Take  Christ  for  thy  Master,  and 
remain  subject  to  His  law."  Then,  after  enlarging  on 
the  spiritual  and  temporal  wealth  and  the  mighty 
influence  for  good  over  Italy  and  other  nations  which 
the  acceptance  of  such  Divine  sovereignty  would 
bring,  he  clinched  his  appeal  by  a  direct  and  thrilling 
challenge :  "  Florence,  Jesus  Christ,  who  is  King  of  the 
universe,  hath  willed  to  become  thy  King  in  parti- 
cular. Wilt  thou  have  Him  for  thy  King  ? "  The 
multitude,  swayed  by  one  irrepressible  feeling,  burst 
into  a  great  shout,  Viva  Gesu  Cristo  nostra  Re ;  and 
the  exclamation  in  which  they  thus  proclaimed  Jesus 
Christ  as  the  Monarch  of  their  choice  became  the 
watchword  of  the  new  order  of  things. 

Having  received  a  response  so  ardent  to  his  lofty 
conception,  Savonarola  addressed  himself  with  char- 
acteristic decision  of  purpose  to  the  means  necessary 
for  its  fulfilment  in  actual  fact.  His  sermons  even  on 
political   subjects  rang  with  solemn  pressing  calls  to 


THE  DREAM  OF  A  THEOCRACY      iii 

the  p'^r!"  ^?iiiu  tip  tihp  hftiivrliti  f)f  tihru  ir^rfa^-^^^^ 

which,  at  his  challenge,  they  had  so  warmly  embraced. 
He  made  it  abundantly  clear  that  his  zeal  in  labour- 
ing  for  the  institution  of  a  free  ^^^gpyernment  was 
actuatecT  s'oIely^W  a  d|^'sire  t^  ep^^ure  the  triumph  of 
mor^JiEI^^JjIil'^l'^^^^  which  are  the s^t)lQ.  founda- 
tions of  national  well-being^'  He  summoned  the  citi- 
zens of  Florence  to  put  down  vice  .with  a  rigorous 
hand,  to  sweep  obscenity  from  their  streets,  to  reform 
their  manners,  lay  aside  their  luxury,  their  indecent 
attire  and  gaudy  finery,  and,  instead  of  pursuing 
frivolity  and  pleasure,  to  give  themselves  to  the  wor- 
ship and  service  of  God.  He  even  went  so  far  as  to 
exhort  the  magistrates  to  bring  all  the  harlots  into 
some  public  place  with  the  sound  of  trumpet,  to  punish 
gamblers,  to  pierce  the  tongues  of  blasphemers,  to  pro- 
hibit balls  and  dancing — injunctions  which  betrayed  a 
touch  of  that  ascetic  severity  from  which  he  never  was 
quite  free. 

Thus  from  the  pulpit  of  the  Duomo  he  strove  to 
inaugurate  the  ifl^i^J  poh'tv  which  he  conceived  himself 
charged  by  a  Divine  warrant  to  set  up.  With  the 
political  excitement  there  was  now  blended  a  strange 
religious  fervour,  and  politics  and  religioQ_were  curiously 
mingled  toprether  in  the  sermons  which  thecrowds 
gathered  to  hear.  Tliose  crowds,  indeed,  swelled  to 
an  unprecedented  degree,  and  within  the  Cathedral 
wooden  galleries  had  to  be  erected  in  the  form  of 
an  amphitheatre,  to  provide  a  larger  amount  of  room. 
Not  only  from  the  city  itself,  but  from  the  country 
round,  men  and  women  of  all  grades  hurried  in  the 
early  morning  and  stood  waiting  in  the  piazza,  filling 
the  space  between  the  lofty  but  then  unfinished  fa9ade 


112  SAVONAROLA 

of  the  great  building  and  the  quaint  octagonal  church 
of  San  Giovanni  Battista — long  so  familiarly  known 
as  the  Baptistery — with  its  black  and  white  marbles 
and  its  marvellously  embellished  bronze  doors,  which 
Michael  Angelo  declared  worthy  to   be   the   gates  of 
Paradise ;    while   Giotto's    Campanile,   with    its    rich 
colour,   delicate    tracery,   and    matchless    grace,   rose 
"  fair  and  light  as  a  lily  stalk  "  against  the  steel-blue 
sky.     It  was  bewildering  to  see  that  mass  of  people, 
says  Burlamacchi,  coming  with  jubilee  and  rejoicing 
to  the  sermon  as  if  to  a  wedding.     Then,  when  the 
doors  were  opened   and  the  throng  pressed   in,  "  the 
silence  was   great  in  church,  each  one   going  to   his 
place;  and   he  who  could  read,  with  a  taper   in   his 
hand,  read  the  service  and  other  prayers.     And  though 
many  thousand  people  were  there  collected  together, 
no   sound  was  to  bfi,Ja>eard,  until   the  arrival  of   the 
cTiildren,  who   sang  hymns  with  so   much   sweetness 
that  heaven  seemed  to  have  opened.     Thus  they  waited 
three  or  four  hours  till  the  Padre  entered  the  pulpit." 
Very  seldom  did  the  huge  and  eager  assembly  fail  to 
experience  some  vivid   sensation.     Sometimes  Savon- 
arola was  himself   carried  away  by  an  overmastering 
ecstasy  of   spiritual   rapture,   and    on   such  occasions 
astonishing   enects   were    produced   on    his    audience. 
Not  only  the  common  people,  but  the  educated,  persons 
of   rank,  artists,  and  men  of   letters,  betrayed   signs 
of  the  deepest  emotion,  and  gave  way  to  sobbing  and 
tears  ;  and    Lor^zo  Violi.  the    shor|,}^a,nd  -y^rj^tpr  who 
took   notes   of    the  .sermons,  was   obliged   repeatedly 
^o  explain,  "  At  this  pomT  I  was  overcome  with  weep- 
ing  and  could  not  go  on."     Not  a  few,  as  they  left 
the  church,  tore  off  their  ornaments,  and  gave  them 


THE  DREAM  OF  A  THEOCRACY      113 

as  an  offering  to  God,  or  took  them  to  the  magistrates 
for  the  use  of  the  State.  As  for  the  orator  himself, 
the  exhaustion  resultincy  ircfj]]  nnrh  o^t'-^^r?^  tension 
of  feeling  not  seldom  laid  him  prostrate  for  several 
days. 

It  is  not  surprising  that  at  such  a  period,  and 
under  emotions  so  intense  and  overpowering,  there 
should  have  arisen  stories  of  supernatural  wonders 
and  amazing  appearances  as  frequently  manifest  while 
Savonarola  was  preaching.  It  was  said  that  some 
beheld  angels  hovering  over  him ;  that  the  Virgin 
Mary  ners^If  was  seen  blessing  him  with  uplifted 
hand  while  he  pronounced  the  benediction  on  the 
worshipping  assembly ;  that  palms  of  martyrdom 
crowned  his  head.  Such  tales  of  marvel,  though  due, 
no  doubt,  to  the  high-strung  excitement  to  which 
the  imagination  of  his  hearers  was  often  wrought, 
are  yet  a  testimony  to  the  seraphic  fervour  and  sacred 
passion  with  which  he  spoke;  and  they  reveal  the 
feeling  entertained  of  the  rare  sanctity  and  greatness 
of  the  man.  So  much  of  truth,  at  least,  must  lie 
behind;  for  legends,  as  has  been  said,  are  like  the 
clouds  that  gather  upon  the  mountain  summits,  and 
show  the  height  and  take  the  shapes  of  the  peaks 
about  which  they  cling. 

The  legislative  measures  he  proposed  for  the  govern- 
ment of  th(^  o.it.v:  fllnfl'thp.  mips  hf>  laid  r|(;;>\Yp  for  the 
p^ivate....ft*^i  f^'^ioi^l  Ijfe  of  the  people,  were  enforced 
in  the  name  of  God,  whose  commands  he  unhesi- 
tatingly asserted  them  to  be.  Preaching,  as  he 
most  frequently  did,  from  the  books  of  the  Old 
Testament,  he  assumed  a  tone  of  authority  in  giving 
to  the  warnings,  threatenings,  and  appeals  of  the 
8 


114  SAVONAROLA 

Psalms  and  Prophets  an  i n f Pj^rrAJ^fiit i ^^  ^  1  Hifitil 3^--" PP^ ^ ^" 
able^gJbisuoSiLS^me  and  to  the  state  of  things  around 
him.  They  were  all  as  plainly  and  intentionally  ad- 
dressed to  Florence,  to  Rome,  to  Italy,  as  they  had 
been  to  Israel  and  Judah.  And  in  support  of  his 
title  to  speak  as  an  organ  of  prophetJ^uJll^l  ^ in^  ^•^' ^^  j 
he  again  and  again  called  attention  to  the  predictions 
uttered  by  him  which  had  been  signally,  and  even 
literally,  fulfilled.  He  made  striking  use  also  of  the 
visions  which  had  been  granted  to  him  in  hours  of 
spiritual  brooding  and  prayer,  when  the  gleam  of 
some  momentous  truth  or  the  forecast  of  some  critical 
event  broke  in  upon  his  entranced  soul.  Indeed,  from 
this  point  onward  his  references  to  those  visions,  and 
his  dependence  on  them  as  a  ground  of  authority, 
became  a  more  predominant  feature  in  his  preaching. 
In  ijiose  visions  Savonarola  himself  had  a  nrofound 
lief.  Time  and  the  knowledge  gamed  by  historical 
research  have  amply  vindicated  the  honest  purity  and 
simplicity  of  his  character;  and  the  theory  is  no 
longer  rationally  tenable,  that  he  was  driven  by  vanity 
or  by  love  of  power  to  take  refuge  in  the  deliberate 
pretension  to  prophetic  enlightenment  and  super- 
natural gifts.  It  does  seem  strange  that  a  man  of 
such  strong  intellectual  force,  wide  learning,  and 
clear  practical  sagacity  should  have  carried  his 
faith  in  Divine  apparitions  and  revelations  so  far  as 
he  did.  We  have  to  remember,  however,  the^^ep 
mystical  tendency  of  his  nature,  observable  even  in 
hi^^ouOi7*  wliTch  grew""  wUh  the  growing  years, 
fostered  by  many  a  long  vigil  and  by  much  fasting 
and  prayer.  We  have  to  remember  the  traditions 
of   monastic   piety  amid  which  his  religious  life  had 


y 


THE  DREAM  OF  A  THEOCRACY     115 

mainly  developed,  and  also  the  pecTjlia^r  influences 
of^^his  ajge.  We  can  conceive  how,  out  of  his  pro- 
found mysticism  and  his  strenuous  endeavour  toget 
into  vital  touch  with  thfijliyine  mind  and  will,  his 
conviction  01  actual  communications  from  heaven  was 
born.  And  we  can  see,  moreover,  how  this  conviction, 
once  formed,  was  sustained  and  confirmed  in  his  view 
by  the  ready  and  reverent  acceptance  by  the  p^eople 
of  all  ^  that ,,  he,  ^declared  ag  (^ivinel^y^  ^SY^Sili^A  to  his 
SOUL  Itwas  an  extravagance  of  the  religious  imagin- 
ation, into  which  he  glided  by  the  slow  but  steady 
pressure  of  the  atmosphere  of  inward  longing  and  out- 
ward environment  in  which  he  lived.  Yet  how  sincere 
he  was  in  it  all  is  sufficiently  evident  from  the  style 
of  argument  he  employs  in  his  Compendium  JBevela- 
tionuTn,  the  singular  work  in  which  the  credentials  of 
Iiis  prophetic  mission  were  offered  to  the  world. 

This  work  was  published  in  August  J^495,  at  the 
very  height  of  his  career,  when,  after  guMj|jig^the 
city  through  its  most  urgent  political  ^difficu^^  he 
was  in  Ine  tuiT  current  or  nis  fabours  for  thereforma- 
tion  of  its  manners.  The  book  opens  with  a  distinct 
avowal  of  his  power  of  pr^rliV.t^ng-  future  events  by 
Diyine  inspiration.  God,  he  asserts,  reveals  the  things 
of  the  future  to  those  whom  He  specially  chooses — 
in  the  first  place,  by  infusing  a  certain  supernatural 
light,  by  means  of  which  the  prophet  perceives  that 
tiie  ^matters  revealed  to  him  are  true  and  proceed 
from  God,  just  as  the  light  of  reason  makes  the 
philosopher  certain  of  his  first  principles  and  the 
ordinary  man  certain  that  two  and  two  make  four ; 
secondly,  by  flashing  that  which  He  wishes  him  to 
know  and  foretell,  either  directly  upon  the  prophet's 


ii6  SAVONAROLA 

mind,  or  through  the  medium  of  a  syryhnlinp]  Yir^^'*^^ 
or  by  means  of  words  heard,  and  known  to  be  com- 
municated through  the  ministry  of  angels.  Having 
stated  these  as  his  fundamental  positions,  Savonarola 
passes  on  to  speak  of  ^^^"^"^nr  "r  thn  ^^^^-y^^^^^^^^^^^ 

h,r   a^r\     fnr    f-,]^P     n'Y1>|0'     fnrfL    nf     J\\f^     vmrA]^|.inr.«     to 

Italy,  and  of  himself  as  the  messenger  through  whom 
the  revelation  should  be  conveyed,  adducing  in  proof 
of  his  claim  the  memorable  instances  in  which  his 
announcements  of  the  Divine  purpose  had  been  verified 
by  the  actual  course  of  events.  But  the  extraordinary 
part  of  the  work  is  that  in  which  he  describes  his 
visionary  journey  to  Parft,^ise.  a  journey  which  he 
pictures  liimselras  haying  undertaken  as  the_ambaa- 
sador  of  Florence  to  the  Virgin  Mary  at  the  court 
of  heaven.  The  whole  narrative  is  an  allegorical 
fancy,  the  gist  of  which  had  already  been  given  in 
a  sermon  in  May  1495.  Its  chief  interest  consists 
in  the  dialogue  which  the  writer  represents  as  having 
taken  place  between  himself  and  the  Tempter,  who 
meets  him  in  the  guise  of  a  holy  hermit,  and  who 
suggests  to  him  every  possible  objection  to  the  con^: 
firiAnr?e  bft  hfl.s  iyi  the  possession  of  a  supernatural 
g;ift.  Is  he  not  misguided  by  a  certain  simplicity, 
or  trifling  with  God's  truth  in  his  predictions  ?  If 
he  is  not  a  deceiver,  is  he  not  moved  by  a  spirit  of 
melancholy,  or  by  a  disordered  imagination?  Or  is 
he  not  himself  deceived  by  the  power  of  the  devil  ? 
Is  he  not  professing  to  reveal  things  which  it  is  not 
given  to  mortal  man  to  know,  or  making  a  cunning 
use  of  the  knowledge  he  has  gained  by  his  friendship 
with  politicians  and  princes  ?  and  so  on.  One  by 
one,  with  painstaking  care  and  directness,  Savonarola 


THE  DREAM  OF  A  THEOCRACY     117 

endeavours  to  refute  those  objections  and  to  establish 
his  honesty  and  good  faith.  At  one  point  he  makes 
the  solemn  asseveration,  "  If  ever  I  have  used  decep- 
tion in  my  preaching,  may  God  blot  me  out  of  the 
Book  of  Life."  There  is  high  colouring  in  the  scene 
of  the  heavenly  court  and  the  jewelled  throne  on 
which  the  Virgin  appears  as  the  Protecting  Saint  of 
Florence;  and  the  descriptions  given  have  a  graphic 
vigour  and  picturesqueness  of  detail  which  not  seldom 
remind  the  reader  of  Dante's  Paradiso.  The  book 
closes  with  a  Divine  message  to  the  Florentine  people, 
predicting  that  after  trials  and  tribulations  their  city 
would  come  forth  more  glorious  than  before. 

Savonarola  renewed  the  defence  of  his  pronb^tic 
claims  in  another  tractate  published  two  years  later,  in 
1497,  entitled  Dialogo  delta  Veritd  Profetica.  It  was 
an  attempt  to  stateand  justify  the  grounds  of  certainty 
he  had  in  the  truth  of  his  revelai^ions ;  but  the 
argument  drew  ""fiith "  Into  a  labyrinth  of  logical 
subtleties  which  proved  the  extreme  dijBficulty  of 
establishing  on  a  clear  basis  of  reason  the  peculiar 
authority  he  assumed  as  the  chosen  medium  of  Divine 
communications. 

It  is  not  necessary  at  the  present  day  to  question  the 
reality  of  Savonarola's  forecasts  of  future  events. 
There  is  abundant  testimony  from  his  own  times  to 
the  striking  and  repeated  anticipation  of  changes  in 
the  civil  and  political  affairs  of  Italy  which  ere  long 
actually  transpired.  Yet  when  we  take  into  account 
the  clear-seeing,  watchful  alertness  of  his  mind,  his 
exp.eptioTia,]  insi^i^ht  iT^to  the  moral  forces  at  work  in 
his  ^generation,  his  large  grasp,  derived  from  constant 
study    of   Scripture    history    and    prophecy,   of    the 


Ii8  SAVONAROLA 

principles  which  underlie  the  workings  of  Providence, 
to2:ether  with  his  comparative  freedom  from  the 
hlhidinpr  ^jfp.ot  of  p^,rtisan  passion  .and  prejudice,  it 
need  not  astonish  us  that  he  should  have  been  able  to 
utter  many  predictions  which  after  events  proved  true. 
All  this  is  perfectly  intelligible  apart  from  the  influence 
of  any  supernatural  insight,  into  the  belief  of  which 
he  was  unconsciously  deluded  by  his  own  mystic  ideas. 

The  great  mass  of  the  people,  however,  were  power- 
fully impressed  by  the  claims  he  advanced,  and  large 
numbers  looked  up  to  him  with  profoundest  reverence 
as  their  guide.  Nor  was  it  only  in  the  pulpit  that 
SavQQarola  e?:Qrcised  hig,  pQ-yy^j-.  Intent  on  his  theo- 
cratic conception,  he  laboured  to  relieve  the  unjust 
burdens  under  which  many  hi  the'cit^'  'wav^  aTrtTering. 
Wh^re  'Otirist  rules,  the  needy  and  the  hard-pressed 
should  be  helped;  and,  acting  on  that  principle,  he 
threw  himself  into  the  work  of  establishin|cr  the  fiLpnte 
diJPieta,  an  institution  designed  to  deliver  the  poorer 
classes   froinffie[^|*exc^^ 

money-lend^s.  He  made  strenuous  efforts  to  procure 
subscriptions  for  this  purpose,  and  succeeded  also  in 
getting  regulations  passed,  which,  while  liberating 
borrowers  from  their  oppressive  debts,  provided  for  the 
obtaining  of  loans  at  a  moderate  and  reasonable  rate  of 
interest. 

Education  also  was  a  subject  to  which  he  devoted 
special  attention,  his  aim  being  to  give  it  a  more 
pa.rnpsf.  mrir^,]  n.r)d  T'^h'orinus  character.  He  adopted 
every  means  in  his  power  to  purffy  the  literature  used 
in  the  schools,  and  to  withdraw  the  rising  generation 
from  frivolous  pursuits  and  sensuous  pleasures. 

Thus,  by  ceaseless  activities  of  various  kinds,  the 


THE  DREAM  OF  A  THEOCRACY      119 

indefatigable  reformer  strove  to  infuse  a  higher  spirit 
int^j  t^e,,|i,fe,  ,of,  thecitv.  and  io  acl  Vance  the  sway  of 
Christ  as  Lord  andTGng  of  the  State.  His  enthusiasm 
communicated  itself  to  multitudes  in  every  rank  of 
society,  and  ere  long  his  consecrated  exertions,  which 
involved  a  severe  tax  on  his  strength,  bore  fruit  in  a 
complete  and  astonishing  change  in  the  manners  of  the 
Florentine  people.  Libertines  abandoned  their  vices ; 
roystering  youths  became  decorous  and  devout;  the 
theatres  and  taverns  were  emgiifid ;  card-playing  and 
dice-throwing  aisappeared ;  women  laid  aside  their 
costly  ornaments  and  flaunting  attire,  and  dressed 
plainly ;  fasts  were  observed  with  new  solemnity,  and 
grew  so  frequent  that  the  butchers  were  almost  ruined. 
Hymns  were  sung  in  the  streets  instead  of  the 
licentious  songs  and  carnival  choruses  hitherto  so 
popular.  Artisans  occupied  their  leisure  hours  in 
reading  the  Bible  and  religious  books.  The  chuj^cJa^s 
o^erfl^^SKad,  and  shops  were  closed  during  tlie'time  of 
preaching.  Bankers  and  merchants  were  constrained 
to  restore  the  gain  uniustly  acquire^-  Deadly  enemies 
were  reconciled.  (|A^  fervour  of  charit^  seemed  to  be 
universal,  and  the  money  Whl'(ih  (JCW'S5?wise  would  have 
been  squandered  on  luxury  and  finery,  or  lost  at  the 
gambling-table,  now  found  its  way  into  the  alms-boxes 
for  behoof  of  the  poor.  There  was,  moreover,  an 
extraordinary  rush  for  admission  into  the  convents. 
In  San  Marco  itself  the  number  of  monks  Increased 
from  fifty,  as  at  first,  to  over  two  hundred  and  thirty, 
and  among  the  newly  enrolled  brethren  were  the  young 
sons  of  several  noble  families,  as  well  as  men  of  mature 
age  who  had  won  distinction  in  literature,  science,  or 
politics. 


120  SAVONAROLA 

This  extraordinary  Tnqr^][  n,nd  reliiyious  reformation 
wap,  T^ot  a,lfnaAj-,]-ip^  °1ipprfiri"^  Considering  the  life- 
long influence  for  good  exerted  on  the  men  who 
supported  Savonarola  in  his  higher  work  among  the 
people,  and  who  cherished  his  memory  and  adhered  to 
his  principles  after  he  was  gone, — many  of  them  men  of 
real  weight  of  character  and  of  more  or  less  note  in 
learning  or  public  affairs, — it  is  a  reasonable  conclusion 
that  there  must  have  been  hundreds  of  others,  scattered 
through  society,  whose  lives  were  refined  and  purified 
by  the  great  movement  of  which  he  was  the  heart  and 
soul.  There  must  have  been  a  very  powerful  and 
genuine  revival  of  godliness.  Nevertheless,  it  has  to  be 
adnnttecl  that  tke  outward  amendment,  everywhere 
so  patent, did  not  represent. a  correspondingly  marked 
and  widespread  spiritual  vitality.  Events  gradually 
showed  that  tbe  yoke^of  religious  austerity  Savonarola 
imposed  was  one  whick  the  i^^iorentines  were  not 
prepared  by  |,heir  own  living^  corvi^t.ir>p«  fn  g^j^giri 
The  standard  of  conduct  on  which  he  insisted  wasjLQO 
m^ijaafttic;  it  left  scant  room  for  the  Jijsalthy  play  of 
natural  human  feeling.  There  was  too  much  repression 
in  tne^system^of  things  which  he  sought  to  inaugurate. 
It  was  too  dependent  for  its  practical  efficiency  on  the 
influence  of  legal  prohibitions,  and  more  especially  on 
the  coercion  of  supernatural  fears.  It  was  an  attempt 
to  jenforce  by  the  sheer  pressure  of  authority  a  degree 
of  morality  which  could  only  be  genuinely  attained  by 
free  personal  ^choice.  And  while  the  magic  of  his 
eloquence,  the  prestige  of  his  mission  as  the  spokesman 
of  Heaven,  the  admiration  and  gratitude  evoked  by  his 
priceless  services  in  saving  and  reconstructing  the 
Republic,  enabled  him  to  wield  a  dictatorial  ascendancy 


THE  DREAM  OF  A  THEOCRACY     121 


and  to  effect  a  marvellous  reform  m  the  habits,  and 
iTifl.TTrLP.|;g  nf  |^1^^  p.iti7p|is.  yet  to  a  large  extent  the  change 
thus  wrought  lacked  the  elements  necessary  to  give  it 
solid  depth  and  reality.  It  would  be  far  from  true 
to  say  that  the  religious  and  moral  revival  which  he 
produced  was  a  sudden  flame  that  flashed  up  for  a 
moment  and  then  went  out.  Yet  the  admission  must 
be  made  that  in  a  certain  measure  it  was  spasmodic 
and  forced.  : 

Savonarola  had  ventured  on  a  daring  experiment  in  j 
attempting  to  rrmy^rt  t|ift  Fll^r^^tJTIf^  pp)ry^rv.v:.r.woQlfT^ 
into  a  theocracy,  and  to  set  up  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven 
in  r^e  very  neart  of  Italy ;  and  undoubtedly  his  success 
in  m^nljing  thn  Mrw  nf  thn  Flnrrntinr  people  into  an 
apparent  harmony  with  his  bold  conception  is  astound- 
ing. It  illustrates  the  moral  fascination  of  his  character 
and  the  commanding  power  of  his  personality.  His 
theocracy  was  a  lofty  dream,  and  with  ari  entire  un- 
sej^gjmess  and  a  purity  of  motive  which  it  is  impossible 
to  doubt,  he  laboured  to  get  it  realised.  But  the  task 
was  beyond  his  strength  in  the  form  in  which  he 
struggled  for  its  accomplishment,  or  by  the  means  on 
which  he  so  largely  relied.  Human  nature  cannot  be 
pressed  into  goodness  as  he  expected  to  press  it.  As 
Calvin  afterwards  found  in  Geneva,  so  Savonarola 
found  in  Florence,  a  strong  and  noble  gaind,  by  positive 
mastery  of  high-purposed  will,  and  brandishing  the 
terrors  of  retributive  judgment,  ^^J  ^VtiW^^  JtiP  ^""^^ 
rigid  rules  of  life  on  a  \)c>(\j  nf  p^pl^  and  may  obtain 
a  remarkable  degree  of  visible  acquiescence  and  sub- 
mission, and  yet  ^il  to  inspire  permanently  more 
than  a,  limited  proportlpn  of  the  mass  with  its  own 
grand  and  vital  ideas.     Savonarola  deserves  conspicuous 


122  SAVONAROLA 

honour,  and  it  should  be  frankly  conceded.  He  did  a 
splendid  spiritual  work  in  his  day;  he  kindled  the 
higher  life  in  many  hearts  in  the  city  and  provinces 
around ;  he  stirred  the  Church  to  a  new  sense  of  its 

^ I   III   £   .gWM^'    ' IPIIIIM II    "IIM     *| 

responsil;)i]jty ;  he  made  religion  a  mighiier  and  more 
riving  force  than  it  had  been  for  several  generations. 
But  he  was  betrayed  into  a  flight  of  pious  extravagance 
when  he  sought  to  drill  Florence  into  subjection  to 
Christ's  law  and  to  regenerate  its  society  by  the 
austere  methods  of  asceticism. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

The  Burdens  and  Perils  of  Power 

Savonarola  had  now  reached  the  climax  of  his  great- 
ness. He  was  the  leading  spirit  in  Florence,  and  in 
1495  the  ^jitjcal,  sociaL  aad.i:fi]igijQ3Jia^lif£i^i  the  city 
was  controlled  by  his  forceful,  strenuously  earnest 
mind.  His  sway  was  an  exalted  dictatorship,  animated 
by  a  righteous  purpose  and  by  a  disinterested  regard 
for  the  public  weal.  Yet  in  that  season  of  triumph, 
possessing  almost  absolute  power,  the  great  Friar  was 
acutely  conscious  of  the  tremendous  difficulties  of  his 
position  and  of  the  task  he  had  taken  in  hand.  While 
the  citizens  crowded  round  his  pulpit,  rejoicing  in  their 
restored  freedom,  and  eager  to  honour  the  man  to 
whose  exertions  their  improved  liberal  government 
was  due,  he  was  weighed  down  by  a  profound  sadness 
in  presence  of  the  corruptions  in  society  which  had  yet 
to  be  overcome,  and  the  intractable  elements  and  tem- 
pers with  which  he  had  to  deal.  There  was  still  the 
note  of  warning  in  his  sermons,  still  the  old  dominant 
thought  of  the  scourge  that  must  fall  ere  the  Church 
and  Italy  should  be  renewed.  There  was  also  a  new 
note,  now  for  the  first  time  heard,  the  note  of  jiark 
foreboding  as  to  his  own  personal  danger  ana  fate. 
Amid  all  the  ad miratron  lavished  upoii"  hjFrrfthere  were 


124  SAVONAROLA 

not  wanting  signs  of  impatience  at  his  in^^erferfflce  in 
public  affairs.  Political  ^jealousy  it  was  inevitable  that 
he  should  incur,  and  complaints  began  to  be  raised 
that  he  was  stepping  beyond  his  province.  More- 
over, his  stringent  measures  for  the  suppression  of 
immorality  and  frivolity  were  a  cause  of  grievous 
offence. 

Savonarola  had  to  share  the  experiejifiajaL-iall  ad- 
vancedT  reformers  who  have  endeavoured  to  remove 
abuses  and  to  regenerate  and  purify  the  life  of  their 
age.  Detrfiction,  envy,  and  opposition — at  first  subtly 
veiled,  but  gradually  becoming  more  open  and  pro- 
nounced— assailed  him ;  and  he  soon  found  it  necessary 
to  defend  the  part  he  was  taking  in  politics  and  public 
life.  In  one  memorable  sermon,  to  which  reference 
has  already  been  made,  he  pictured  himself  under  the 
figure  of  a  youth  who  left  home  and  launched  forth  on 
the  sea  to  fish,  and  was  carried  far  out  on  the  waters, 
beyond  sight  of  port,  bitterly  bewailing  his  fate.  He 
had  been  led  from  the  liberty  and  quiet  he  craved  for 
by  the  desire  to  preach  and  in  the  hope  of  winning 
souls,  but  the  Lord  had  brought  him  out  on  the  high 
seas,  with  no  harbour  in  view,  difficulties  on  every  side, 
tribulations  and  tempests  gathering  before  his  eyes, 
and  the  wind  driving  him  farther  forth  into  the  deep. 
"  0  Lord,"  he  cried,  "  whither  hast  Thou  led  me  ? 
Through  my  desire  to  save  souls  for  Thee,  I  am  come 
into  a  place  from  which  I  can  no  longer  return  to  my 
rest.  ...  I  see  in  all  directions  war  and  discord  com- 
ing upon  me.  You  at  least,  my  friends,  the  chosen  of 
God,  for  whom  I  afflict  myself  day  and  night,  have 
pity  upon  me  !  Give  me  flowers,  as  the  Canticle  says, 
'  for  I  am  sick  of  love.'     The  flowers  that  I  ask  for  are 


BURDENS  AND  PERILS  OF  POWER      125 

good  works,  and  I  only  yearn  for  you  that  ye  please 
God  and  save  your  souls."  He  had  not,  he  averred, 
thrust  himself  forward,  but  had  been  carried  on  in  the 
work  he  was  doing  by  the  constraint  of  circumstances 
and  the  will  of  Heaven,  his  onn  a,jm,  thf^  fitif^"^^  well- 
being  of^^th^Jloreniiiii£^  people.  And  as  for  personal 
aggrandisement — not  that,  but  something  far  different 
was  the  recompense  he  looked  for  in  the  enterprise  on 
which  he  had  embarked.  "  What  reward,  O  Lord,"  he 
cried,  "  shall  be  granted  in  the  life  to  come  to  him  who 
is  victorious  in  a  battle  such  as  this  ?  That  which  the 
eye  cannot  see,  the  ear  cannot  hear — eternal  blessed- 
ness. And  what  the  reward  granted  in  this  life  ? 
*  The  servant  shall  not  be  greater  than  his  master,' 
answers  the  Lord.  '  Thou  knowest  that  after  preach- 
ing I  was  crucified;  so  martyrdom  shall  befall  thee 
^Iso.' "  Then,  with  a  thrill  01  consecrated  passion  in 
his  voice,  he  pleaded,  "  O  Lord,  Lord,  grant  me,  I  pray 
Thee,  this  martyrdom,  and  make  me  ready  to  die  for 
Thee,  as  Thou  hast  died  for  me.  Already  the  knife  is 
sharpened  for  me.  But  the  Lord  tells  me.  Wait  yet  for 
a  little  while,  so  that  the  things  may  come  which  have 
to  follow,  and  then  thou  shalt  use  that  strength  which 
shall  be  given  thee." 

This  presentiment  of  his  tragical  end,  at  the  very 
height  of  his  popularity  and  power,  indicates  his  know- 
in/igp  r.f  p]p||^.^|^j-^p^  gj?  ]incfi]jj-.y  at  work  around^  Timi. 
The  spirit  of  faction  is  never  long  asleep,  and  soon  it 
became  evident  that  discord  was  being  fomented  among 
particular  sections  of  the  citizens.  New  party  names 
were  heard  in  Florence.  The  followers  of  Savonarola, 
who  had  come  to  be  familiarly  spoken  of  as  the 
Frateschi,  and  who  were  decidedly  in  the  majority  and 


126  SAVONAROLA 

'^'''^  included  the  devout  and  honest-minded  of  all  classes, 
were  now  ridiculed  as  Fiagnoni — the  Weepers.  His 
most  implacable  opponents  earned  by  their  fierce  ran- 

^.  cour  the  title  of  j^rfafhiati — the  Maddened,  the  Furious. 
They  were  chiefly  men  of  ^^^j^lth  a.r^^  ra.rtV.  who 
schemed  for  the  restoration  <jf  t\r\  aristocrat!  r^  yep^bljc. 
such  as  Florence  had  possessed  in  the  days  preceding 
the  Medici  rule.  They  were  the  sworn  foes  of  the 
Mefei.  by  whom  their  influence  had  been  supplanted, 
but  they  were  ^T^rlJIy  influmff^  f^^yniTiriti  ^n^^n^rHn  as 
the  founder  of  a  popular  government  which  they  de- 
tested. There  was  a  vii:>lent  sp-f^-tinn  of  this  party  con- 
sisting principally  of  dissolute  and  turbulent  youths, 
who  somewhat  later  came  into  notoriety  as  tji  Com^ 
pagnacci — the  Evil  Companions ;  and  by  none  were 
ttie '"politics  of  Savonarola,  his  religious  teaching,  and 
especially  the  decorous  mode  of  life  he  enforced,  re- 
garded with  more  vehement  aversion.  At  the  opposite 
extreme  from  the  Arrabbiati  stood  the  Bjanchi-jthe 
Whites,  the  radicals  of  the  day,  who  obiectgd-lQ>.the 
limited  franchise  of  Savonarola,  but  acquiesced  in  his 
polity  generally  as  favourable  to  liberty.  More  numer- 
ous, and  far  more  dangerous  because  of  the  secrecy  of 
their  proceedings,  were  the  BiqLor  Greys,  the  adj:ierents 
ofJiJie-M^dici,  who,  though  indebted  to  Savonarola  for 
the  amnesty  which  had  enabled  them  to  live  in  peace 
and  safety  in  the  city,  repaid  his  generosity  by  plotting 
his  downfall  and  treacherously  intriguing  for  Piero  de 
Medici's  return. 

The  enmity  of  the  Arrabbiati  was  revealed  at  an 
early  stage.  While  the  first  provisionally  appointed 
Accopiatori  were  still  in  power  but  unable  to  act, 
Filippo  Corbizzi,  a  declared  opponent  of  Savonarola 


BURDENS  AND  PERILS  OF  POWER     127 

and  of  the  popular  institutions  he  was  advocating,  was 
elected  by  a  sort  of  accident  as  Gonfaloniere,  and  at 
once  lent  his  aid  to  the  aristocratic  party's  designs. 
He  convoked  in  the  ^^^J"^Pin  a  fii^11ff"fii^i  nf  ^^eologians 
andy-ecclesiastics^,  and  laid  before  them  a  proposal  to 
call  the  Prior  of  San  Marco  to  account  for  his  intrusion 
into  business  which  politicians  skouid  be  left  to  arrange. 
Savonarola  was  sent' 'for,  and  Oil  Ilia  appearance  was 
assailed  by  a  storm  of  abuse,  in  which  the  chief  part 
was  taken  by  Tommaso  da  Rieti,  an  acute  little  friar, 
head  of  the  Dominican  convent  of  Santa  Maria  Novella, 
who  delivered  a  harangue  on  the  text  that  no  man 
warring  for  God  entangles  himself  with  secular  affairs. 
Savonarola  listened  patiently  till  his  accuser  had 
finished,  and  then  calmly  said  in  reply  that  now  he 
found  fulfilled  the  words,  "  My  mother's  children  have 
risen  up  against  me ; "  that  he  was  grieved  to  see  his 
fiercest  foe  clothed  in  the  robe  of  San  Dominic — a  robe 
that  called  to  mind  the  number  of  good  and  saintly 
men,  not  forgetting  the  founder  of  the  order  himself, 
who,  while  wearing  it,  had  been  concerned  in  affairs  of 
State,  such  as  Cardinal  Latino,  St.  Peter  Martyr,  and 
St.  Antonino ;  that  it  was  no  crime  in  a  monk  to-be 
mixed  up  with  the  doiTlg»  V^  fr^  wo^^,  unless  he  had 
nothing  higher  in  view  than  a  worldly  enTang'lI^re- 
gard^or  the_g[ood  of  religion,  tie  closed  by  daring  any 
of  those  present  to  quote  a  single  passage  of  the  Bible 
which  condemned  the  support  of  a  free  government  for 
the  sake  of  helping  the  triumph  of  religion  and  moral- 
ity. The  assembly  could  only  answer  by  demanding  a 
plain  proof  of  his  Divine  warrant  for  preaching  as  he 
did.  With  the  simple  retort  that  he  had  spoken  openly 
before  the  world,  and  now  had  nothing  more  to  add, 


128  SAVONAROLA 

he  turned  abruptly  away,  and  the  meeting  broke  up,  a 
failure. 

"^'About  the  same  time  he  received 
Rome  directing  him  to  proceed  to  Luc(^.a  and  prefl,nh 
the^the  sermons  for  Lent.  This  also  was  the  work 
of  the  Arrabbiati,  who  were  resolved  to  have  him  re- 
moved or  silenced.  Savonarola  himself  was  prepared 
to  submit  to  the  Papal  decree,  believing,  as  he  avowed 
in  one  of  his  sermons,  that  it  behoved  him  to  obey 
orders  and  not  create  scandal.  He  was  .lustthen,  how- 
ever, in  the  full  current  of  his  political  and  reformijig 
activity,  and  the  voice  of  Florence'w^CS'torg^  in^^^ptest 
against  the  very  sn  o'^'psti  on  of  h  i  s  ^-em  o vrI  .  It  was 
felt  that  he  could  not  be  spared  at  such  a  juncture,  that 
his  presence  was  indispensable  to  the  construction  of 

the     new     nrr^yfr^^^^^     ^^^     ^-^^    pnrifinHHgf.inn     of     the 

Republic.  The  Signory  espoused  his  side,  and  the 
Council  of  the  Ten  were  especially  urgent  in  sending 
remonstrances  to  Rome  and  endeavouring  to  procure 
the  recall  of  the  Papal  Brief.  Akixsuauder  vi.  was  at 
last  persuaded  to  yield,  influenced  largely  by  fear  of 
political  complications,  Charles  of  France  being  still  at 
Naples,  and  ready  to  resent  any  offence  given  to  his 
allies,  as  the  Florentines  continued  to  be.  Thus  Savon- 
arola was  permitted  to  remain  at  his  post  and  to 
piir.c;np.  f.he  course  of  public  usefulness  on  which  he  had 
been  launched.  But  his  sentiment  of  obedience  re- 
ceived a  shock.  He  had  obtained  an  insight  into  the 
doings  and  intrigues  of  the  Papal  Court,  and  into 
the  thoroughly  secular  and  often  unworthy  motives 
which  prompted  the  issue  and  the  withdrawal  of  Papal 
decrees. 

Neither  the  harassment  of  opposition  nor  the  weight 


BURDENS  AND  PERILS  OF  POWER      129 

of  care,  however,  could  quench  the  ardour  of  that  un- 
flinching, masterful  mind.  Sustained  by  the  conscious- 
ness of  his  mission  and  the  purity  of  his  own  "^igh 
^lis,  t^avonarola  went  on  with  his  work,  pj^eaching, 
counselling,  org^anising,  extending  his  regulative  power 
over  the  common  lite  of  the  city,  confronting  difficulties 
and  antagonisms,  and  living  for  months  at  a  pressure 
which  again  and  again  brought  on  a  collapse  of 
physical  strength.  Yet  never  did  he  enjoy  in  fuller 
measure  the  fervent  go^will  and  devotion  of  the 
peo^^  at  large.  In  spite  of  all  the  plots  of  hostile 
tactions,  his  was  the  only  leadership  which  the 
mass  of  the  Florentines  would  consent  to  obey.  To 
the  well-meaning  and  honestly  disposed  he  was  a 
"^nrrpi  nil  upliftiinrr  ffpiritilinl  pr^v^r  stirring  thgm  to 
higher  aims  and  thrilling  them  with  a  sense  of  the 
great  things  for  which  it  was  worthy  to  live  and  strive. 
His  very  presence,  with  the  air  of  lofty  purpose  about 
him,  was  itself  a  stimulus  to  the  better  nature  of  all 
earnest  citizens,  and  helped  them  to  realise  with  glow- 
ing intensity  the  nobility  of  the  life  of  faith.  In 
those  days  the  regal  spirit  of  the  man  shone  out 
with  inspiring  brilliance,  and,  like  Schiller's  hero  in 
Wallenstein,  wherever  he  moved  he  created  the 
wonderful. 

During  the  summer  of  1405^ the  shadow  of  trouble 
again  hovered  over  the  city.  Charles  viii.  was  now 
marching  north  on  his  return  from  Naples,  with  Piero 
rig  MAf^j^j  ii^  ]-|iq  train.  His  expedition  had  been  a  sort 
of  triumphal  progress,  and  he  had  conquered  the 
Neapolitan  kingdom  almost  without  striking  a  blow. 
His  unexampled  success,  however,  aroused  an  alarm 
among  the  princes  of  Italy,  which  was  shared  by  the 
9 


130  SAVONAROLA 

rulers  of  several  foreign  States.     Ludovico  of  Milan, 
who  had  turned  round  and  abandoned  his  friendship 
for  France,  Pojje  Alexander  vi.,  Venipe,  Ferdinand  of 
Spain,  and  the    Emperor   Maximilian  I.  entered   into 
a  coalition  against   Charles,   and    formed  the  famous 
^"  ^]y  '  -^"-"-^  "  pv-^^^^-^^-^1^^  for  the  defence  of  Christen- 
dom against  the  Turks  and  the  preservation  of  the 
rights   of   the   chair   of   St.   Peter,  but  really  for  the 
e.2LpiLsie»-^f  the  "  barbarians "  from  Italy.     Qii^j^les 
had  thus  been  compelled  to  retire,  and  it  was  expected 
that  he  would  pass  through  the  territory  of  Florence 
on  his  northward  route.     The  Florentines,  though  still 
true  to  their  alliance  with  the  King,  and  ref]iaiog  to 
joimili^J^sa^gue,  had  reason  to  dread  his  interposition 
on  behalf  of  Piero's  restoration.      The  Medici  party 
were  on  the  alert,  waiting  to  seize  their  opportunity, 
but  the  friends  of  the  new  constitution  furnished  them- 
selves with  arms,  and  resolutely  prepared  to  protect 
their  liberties.      Savonarola,  while  encouraging  their 
patriotic  zeal,  counselled  them  to  patience,  and  above 
all  things,  unity  ;  then,  he  promised,  victory  should  be 
theirs,  evenHf  all  the  world  were  against  them.     As 
Charles  and  his  army  drew  near,  his  curt  and  churlish 
treatment  of  the  ambassadors   sent  by  the  Republic 
still  further  darkened  the  aspect  of  affairs.     Once  more 
Savonarola  was   induced   to   step  forward  and   meet 
the  difficulty.      He  had  written  several  letters  to  the 
King  since  his  former  interviews  with  him,  acknow- 
ledging  him  as  the  chosen  instrument  of   God,  and 
claiming  the  right  in  God's  name  to  keep  him  faithful 
to   his   covenant   with   Florence.      Now   he   went   to 
Charles  in  person  at  Poggibonsi,  on  the  road  to  Siena, 
and  spoke  in  the  same  high  tone,  telling  the  King  that 


I 


BURDENS  AND  PERILS  OF  POWER      131 

he  had  incurred  the, wrath  of  God  by  ne^lppfi^cr  that 
work  of  reforming  the  r!]ni-iTv>V>  axxLipVi  V^^  ka^^  been 
AVifl.ro-ftT'|.n  i]y|(|p.rtf|J5-p.  '^  This  time  "~  he  said,  "  you 
will  escape  the  danger  which  threatens  you,  but  if  you 
again  disregard  the  command  which  He  repeats  through 
me,  His  unworthy  servant,  and  still  refuse  to  take  up 
the  work  which  He  commits  to  you,  I  warn  you  that 
He  will  punish  you  with  far  more  terrible  misfortunes, 
and  will  choose  another  in  your  place."  The  result  of 
this  solemn  and  authoritative  remonstrance  was  that 
rihfl.rJpR  p{^i«fi<^d  op,  leaving  the  Florentines  ijiTimolftstpd 
and "oavonarola  established  for  himself  a  ne^  title  to 
.^£public  favour. 

Th(;^  emtj^.rjyepcv.  however,  lent  additional  weight  to 
one  of  the  many  cares  which  lay  upon  his  heart — the 
riskt,|]Hjt  mftnap.p.d  thp,  Rpp^ihli^.  sf)  l^pg'fls  there  existed 
the  possibility  of  calling  a  Parlamento.  This  assembly 
of  the  whole  body  of  the  citizens,  convened  in  the 
piazza  at  the  sound  of  the  great  bell,  had  all  the 
appearance  of  a  thoroughly  democratic  institution,  but 
was  liable  to  abuse,  and  had  repeatedly  been  abused,  in 
furthering  the  designs  of  tyranny.  Savonarola  saw  in 
it  a  danger  to  all  really  free  and  enlightened  govern- 
ment, and  the  fear  of  its  being  employed  by  the  ad- 
herents of  the  Medici  in  the  interests  of  Piero  impelled 
him  to  labour  for  its  abolition,  and  thereby  save 
Florence  from  the  caprice  of  the  mob,  who  might  at 
any  moment  be  cajoled  by  delusive  promises  or  cowed 
by  threats.  Indeed,  his  apprehensions  on  this  point 
roused  him  to  speak  from  the  pulpit  in  language  which 
was  startlingly  excessive  in  its  vehemence.  H^jixged 
the  people  never  to  allow  a  Parlamento  to  assemble,  as 
it  was  nothing  else  than  a  means  ot  taking  power  out 


132  SAVONAROLA 

of  their  hands.  If  a  new  law  was  to  be  made,  the 
Grand  Council  could  make  it.  The  Signory,  he  said, 
on  entering  office  should  be  obliged  to  take  an  oath 
not  to  call  a  Parlamento,  and  heavy  penalties  should  be 
inflicted  on  any  person  who  should  secretly  attempt  to 
call  one, — "  if  he  be  of  the  Signory,  let  his  head  be 
struck  off;  if  he  be  not  of  it,  let  him  be  declared  a 
rebel,  and  his  goods  confiscated."  Nay,  if  JJia-Signory 
as  a  body  should  endeavour  to  summon  a  Parlamento, 
the  moment  they  appear  m  iront  ot  jthe  i'alazzo  "  any 
man  may  cut  them  to  pieces  without  being  guilty  of 
sin."  This  sermon  was  delivered  on  28th  July  1495, 
and  early  in  the  following  month  a  law  was  passed 
declaring  that  no  Parlamento  should  in  future  be 
held. 

That  the  risk  which  m®ved  Savonarola  to  such 
violence  of  speech  was  not  imaginary,  was  proved  soon 
afterwards,  when  Pi^ro  dft^  Medici,  assisted  by  the 
Italian  League  and  encouraged  by  the  intrigues  of  his 
supporters  within  the  city,  made  j^n  atitempt  tCL  force 
an  entrance  into  Florence.  The  enterprise  failed 
ignominiously,  but  it  revealed  the  need  of  vigorous 
precautions  for  the  security  of  the  new  constitution 
and  the  freedom  it  conferred.  It  drew  from  Savonarola 
one  of  his  most  tremendous  outbursts  of  denunciatory 
declamation.  Holding  the  crucifix  in  his  hand,  he  sent 
/Iiis  voice  pealing  out  over  the  Cathedral,  declaring  that 
''  whosoever  would  seek  to  bring  back  »the  Medici  to 
Florence  should  be  put  to  death.  "  Will  you  who  pay 
no  respect  to  Christ,  have  respect  to  private  citizens  ? 
Do  justice,  I  tell  you.  Off  with  his  head  !  Even  were 
he  the  chief  of  the  first  family  in  the  city,  off*,  I  say, 
with  his  head !  .  .  .  Trust  jn  nought  but  the_G|:eat 


BURDENS  AND  PERILS  OF  POWER     133 

Qo^ii^,  which  is  the  work  of  God  and  not  of  man,  and 
whosoever  would  change  it,  or  set  up  a  tyrant,  or  place 
the  government  in  the  hands  of  private  citizens,  let 
him  be  accursed  of  the  Lord  for  ever." 

Such  words  of  fierce  severity  may  be  ascribed  to  the 
natural  morbid  excitability  of  Savonarola's  tempera- 
ment, strained  to  its  utmost  pitch  by  the  exacting 
and  long-continued  tax  upon  his  nervous  energy  and 
mental  powers.  At  the  same  time  it  is  possible  to  see 
in  them  a  striking  evidence  of  his  irxepyessibl-e-gg^sion 
for  libejjty. 


y 


CHAPTEE   XV 

The  Hand  of  the  Pope 

Among  the  supporters  of  the  League  formed  to  drive 
Charles  viii.  and  his  army  out  of  Italy  there  was  none 
more  energetic  than  Pope  Alexander  vi.  He  had 
incurred  the  special  enmity  of  Charles  by  first  profess- 
ing to  favour  his  claims  to  Naples  and  then  turning 
against  him,  and  now  his  position  was  most  seriously 
imperilled  by  the  influence  of  Charles  in  Italian  politics. 
The  French  King  held  over  him  the  threat  of  summon- 
ing ^General  Council  to  investigate  his  title  to  jhe 
Papacy/  For,  Shrewd  and  capable  administrator  as 
Alexander  vi.  was,  and  endowed  with  certain  qualities 
which  made  him  superficially  popular,  his  character, 
as  judged  even  by  Roman  Catholic  historians,  was  a 
discredit  to  religion  and  to  the  pontifical  throne.  His 
life  was  one  of  unrestrained  sensuality,  marked  both 
in  private  and  public  by  an  absence  of  all  moral  feel- 
ing ;  bribery  was  a  means  of  power  which  he  used  with 
the  most  amazing  effrontery ;  with  systematic  unscru- 
pulousness  he  schemed  and  intrigued  for  the  worldly 
advancement  of  his  illegitimate  sons  and  daughters, 
and  openly  tolerated  in  their  conduct  criminalities 
and  vices  which  were  a  scandal  to  Italy,  and  which 
have  rendered  the  family  name  of   Borgia  a  byword 

134 


THE  HAND  OF  THE  POPE  135 

for  generations.  "Thus,"  says  Dr.  Pastor,  "he  who 
should  have  been  the  guardian  of  his  time,  saving  all 
that  could  be  saved,  contributed  more  than  any  other 
man  to  steep  the  Church  in  corruption." 

This  was  the  man  who  most  dreaded  the  French 
King,  and  who,  now  that  the  latter  was  on  his  retreat, 
was  most  determined  to  break  the  force  of  his  power 
in  Italy.  The  chief  obstacle  to  his  designs  lay  in  the 
attitude  of  ^Elorence,  which  still  persisted  in  holding 
aloof  from  the  League  and  adhering  to  its  alliance  with 
France.  And  Florence  was  dominated  by  the  influence 
of  Savonarola,  through  whose  unflinching  advocacy 
that  alliance  was  upheld.  He  still  clung  to  his  pious 
hallucination  that  the  frivolous,  vacillating,  dissolute 
King  was  God's  chosen  instrument  for  the  rftfnrmfliinn 
of  the  Church.  Accordingly,  it  was  now  upon  Florence, 
and  upon  Savonarola  as  the  ruling  spirit  there,  that 
the  Pope,  with  the  eager  connivance  of  Ludovico  of 
Milan,  instigated  the  Italian  powers  to  turn  their  com- 
bined hostility.  It  was  decided  that  every  means 
should  be  employed  to  detach  Florence  from  the  side  of 
France  and  compel  it  to  join  the  League ;  and  so  an 
effQ^t  of  rp.prpsRinn,  originating  in  political  _rather 
than  religious  causes,  wr^  direptpd  flgRJuRt  the  main 
supporter  of  the  French  alliance,  the  Prior  of  San 
Marco. 

Alexander's  purpose  to  silence  and,  if  possible, 
extinguish  this  influential  opponent  of  his  policy,  was 
confirmed  by  highly-coloured  reports  of  Savonarola's 
denunciations  of  the  Roman  Court  and  its  doings  which 
were  carried  to  his  ears  by  the  enemies  of  the  Florentine 
preacher.  He  set  to  work  with  dexterous  subtlety.  On 
25th  July  1495  he  addressed  a  Brief  to  Savonarola,  in 


136  SAVONAROLA 

which  in  friendly  terms  he  commended  him  as  one 
well  known  for  his  zeal  as  a  worker  in  the  Lord's  vine- 
yard, and  then,  referring  to  his  predictions  of  future 
events  as  coming  not  from  man  but  from  God,  he 
summoned  him  in  virtue  of  his  pastoral  authority  to 
repair  at  once  t^^Rome  and  give^a  more  full  and  direct 
account  of  the_  revelations  he  haj_  received.  Savon- 
arola's friends,  however,  were  suspicious  of  the  object 
aimed  at  by  this  apparently  mild  injunction.  They 
realised  the  danger  to  their  popular  government  and 
freedom  involved  in  the  attempt  to  remove  the  guide 
of  the  whole  movement  from  Florence,  and  they  were 
afraid  of  aTprol  to  Eave  him  seized  or  assassinated  by 
the  way ;  for,  indeed,  even  in  the  city  the  adversaries 
of  the  new  order  were  beginning  to  show  a  more  deadly 
intention,  and  Savonarola  had  to  be  guarded  by  an 
armed  escort  as  he  passed  to  and  fro  between  his  con- 
vent and  the  Cathedral.  Moreover,  his  bodily  health 
was  breaking  down,  and  his  emaciation  was  so  extreme 
that  he  was  contemplating  retirement  for  a  time  from 
the  pulpit;  and  therefore  a  journey  under  such  con- 
ditions would  have  been  more  than  he  could  safely  bear. 
All  these  considerations  were  anxiously  pressed  upon 
his  attention,  and,  after  weighing  them  duly,  he  on 
31st  July  sent  a  reply  to  the  Pope  requesting  to  be 
exciia.ed  from  coming  to  Rome  at  that  particular  time. 
He  acknowledged  the  duty  of  obedience  to  his  ecclesi- 
astical superior,  but  pleaded  the  low  state  of  his  health 
and  the  risk  to  his  life  from  the  evil  designs  of  his 
political  foes  ;  and  further,  he  urged  that  the  reformed 
government  had  not  yet  taken  firm  root,  and  required 
constant  assistance,  and  that  therefore,  in  the  judgment 
of  all  good  and  wise  citizens,  his  departure  would  be  of 


THE  HAND  OF  THE  POPE  137 

great  injury  to  the  people,  while  of  little  advantage  to 
Rome.  And  for  these  "  true  and  plain  reasons  "  he 
asked  his  Holiness  to  allow  him  a  brief  delay.  As  to 
the  explanation  of  his  predictions  concerning  the  future, 
he  promised  to  send  a  little  book — the  Compendium 
BMwlatiomLm' — which  he  was  just  getting  printed^,~and 
which  would  be  found  to  contain  all  about  the  matter 
that  needed  to  be  known. 

He  was  taking  the  rest  which  his  excessive  exhaustion 
forced  upon  him,  deputing  his  trusted  disciple  Fra 
Domenico  da  Pescia  to  preach  for  him  in  the  Cathedral, 
when,  to  his  astonishment,  on  the  8th  of  September  a 
new:._BriejLwas  issued  by  the  Pope,  addressed,  not  to  the 
brethren  of  San  Marco,  but  to  the  Franciscans  of  Santa 
Croce,  his  long-standing  rivals  and  opponents,  and 
speaking  of  him  in  a  tone  of  alienated  aloofness  as  "  a 
certain  Fra  Girolamo,"  whose  mind  had  been  excited  to 
such  a  pitch  of  folly  that  he  gave  himself  out  to  be  a 
prophet  and  the  bearer  of  a  mission  from  God,  without 
being  able  to  prove  his  claim  either  by  miracles  or 
by  direct  evidence  from  Holy  Scripture.  There  was 
reason  to  fear — this  Brief  of  the  man  who  was  out- 
raging all  the  moralities  went  on  to  say — lest  vice 
should  make  an  entrance  into  the  Church  under  tlie 
semblance  of  virtue.  The  Pope,  it  continued,  could 
forbear  ^  longer.  The  Fra  Girolamo  was  com- 
manded to  refmjri  fT;r>m  preflrhing__of  any  kind. 
Moreover,  the  "fecandalous  severance"  of  his  convent 
from  the  Lombard  Congregation  must  cease,  and  he 
must  henceforth  bow  to  the  authority  of  the  Lombard 
superior ;  and  all  this  under  pain  of  being  visited  by 
the  ban  of  the  Church. 

Savonarola  was  painfully  embarrassed.       He   was 


138  SAVONAROLA 

unwilling  to  place  himself  in  an  attitude  of  open 
rebellion  against  the  Pope,  yet  he  knew  that  the  whole 
difficulty  was  due  to  the  plots  of_  the_Ai:Eahbiati  and 
Medici  parties,  who  were  working  through  the  Pope 
for  the  r^^oration  of  tyranny.  He  made  his  reply  on 
the  29th  of  September.  It  was  a  defence  of  his  teach- 
ing in  view  of  the  reports  by  which  the  Holy  Father 
had  been  deceived,  and  a  humble  but  firm  protest 
against  the  reunion  of  San  Marco  with  the  Lombard 
Congregation.  In  his  doctrine,  he  said,  he  had  always 
been  submissive  to  the  Church,  and  the  events  he  had 
foretold  had  come  to  pass,  as  many  witnesses  could 
testify.  He  argued  that  the  reunion  with  the  Lombard 
friars  would  only  deepen  the  rancour  already  existing 
between  the  two  congregations,  and  give  rise  to  fresh 
disputes.  If  that  reunion  was  sought  in  order  to 
prevent  others  from  lapsing  into  his  errors,  he  believed 
he  had  made  it  plain  that  he  had  not  lapsed  into  any 
error,  and  hence  as  the  cause  was  non-existent,  neither 
siSuTd  its  effect  remain.  He  recited  the  services 
he  had  rendered  to  Florence  in  arresting  bloodshed  and 
destroying  dissension  in  a  time  of  trouble,  and  in 
establishing  religion,  moralitv,,_aiid-^eace ;  and  he 
besought  his  Holiness  to  grant  him  full  acquittal  from 
the  false  charges  made  against  him,  concluding  with 
the  declaration  that  now  and  always,  as  he  had  often 
repeated,  he  submitted  himself  and  all  his  words  and 
writings  to  the  correction  of  the  Holy  Roman  Church 
and  "  of  your  Holiness,  to  whose  prayers,  prostrate  at 
your  feet,  I  most  humbly  commend  myself  and  all  my 
brethren." 

Alexander  was  a  man  of  astute  practical  sagacity ,'and 
on  the  receipt  of  this  reply  he  recognised  the  necessity 


THE  HAND  OF  THE  POPE  139 

of  proceeding  with  studied  caution.  Though  annoyed 
for  the  moment  by  the  Florentine  preacher's  obstinate 
opposition  to  his  will,  he  yet  deemed  it  wise  not  to 
push  matters  to  extremity,  but  to  attain  his  objec^t,  if 
possible,  by  discreet  and  diplomatic  means.  On  the 
l§iji_of  October  he  sent  another  .Briei:,  mw^hich  Savon- 
arola was  told  that  serious  displeasure  had  been  caused 
at  Kome  by  the  disturbances  which,  it  was  alleged,  his 
teaching  had  produced  in  Florence,  but  that  now  great 
joy  was  felt  in  the  assurance,  gathered  from  his  letter 
lately  received  and  from  the  testimony  of  many 
cardinals,  that  he  was  ready,  as  a  good  Christian,  to 
submit  to  the  Church  in  all  things.  Hence  thePope 
Jiegan  tobe  persuaded  that  he  had  erred  rather  through 
excess  of  zeal  than  through  any  evil  intent.  However, 
lest  there  should  be  any  failure  of  duty,  he  was  com- 
manded, in  the  name  of  holy  obedience,  to  abstain  from 
pceaiChing  either  in  public  or  private,  until  he  was  able 
with  convenience  and  safety  to  appear  himself  in  Rome, 
or  until  a  commission  had  been  sent  to  Florence.  If  he 
obeyed  this  command,  all  the  former  Briefs  would  be 
revoked,  and  he  might  live  in  peace  according  to  the 
dictates  of  his  own  conscience.  Ere  this_Brief,  which 
from  some  unexplained  cause  took  a  lon^ime  to  reach 
Floreuce^as  delivered,  Savonarola  had  reappeared  in 
the  .pul£itranH^iad- ilone  I'ilbrtitmoot  tu  (jucuiiiage  the 
citizens  to  resist  the  expedition  of  Piero  de  Medici 
referred  to  in  the  previous  chapter.  It  was  then  that 
he  preached  that  startling  sermon  which  called  for  the 
death  of  all  who  aided  or  abetted  the  restoration  of 
tyranny.  By  the  time  the  Brief  arrived  the  danger 
was  past,  and  Savonarola  relapsed  into  silence. 

His  position,  amid  wily  manoeuvres  to  cripple  his 


140  SAVONAROLA 

power  and  false  accusations  of  creating  discord,  was 
exceedingly  trying.  The  decree  prohibiting  him  to 
preach  he  felt  to  be  unjust,  and  the  reasons  assigned 
for  ihe  prohiDJtion  b^sed  on  slanderous  reports.  He 
knew  that  behind  the  vague  charges  brought  against 
his  teaching  it  was  his  political  influence  that  was 
rftfl.Hy  nssflilp.d  But  he  had  confidence  in  the  rectitude 
of  his  cause,  and  was  res2lved^not_to_deserLt^ 
who,  in  spite  of  all  the  slanders,  looked  up  to  him  still 
with  unabated  trust.  The  good  work  was  going  on, 
and  he  was  anxious  not  to  mar  it  by  the  heated  ex- 
citement sure  to  arise  if  he  openly  quarrelled  with  the 
Pope.  So  he  kept  quiet  for  a  while,  hoping  that 
ere  long  the  efforts  of  friendly  intercessors  might  lead 
to  the,  withdrawal  o?~l)he_  resjHctions  laid  upon  him. 
He  brooded  much~on  the  terrible  infamies  of  the  Papal 
Court,  on  the  immoral  relations  and  the  murders  in 
which  the  Pope  himself  and  the  members  of  his  family 
were  implicated,  and  the  only  remedy  for  which,  as  he 
now  became  convinced,  was  the  calling  of  a  Gfine^al 
Council.  Several  times  he  was  prompted  by  those 
broodings  to  write  to  Charles  viii.,  exhorting  him  to 
take  the  steps  devolving  upon  him  as  God's  minister  in 
efiecting  the  work  of  the  Church's  renovation. 

Gradually,  as  his  strength  returned,  he  became  im- 
patient of  inaction,  and  in  the  enforced  abstention 
from  his  favourite  work  of  preaching  sought  employ- 
ment for  his  energies  in  the  reform  of  the  children  and 
youth  of  the  city.  He  had  all  along  shown  a  warm 
interest  in  the  young;  he  had  endeavoured  to  guide 
parents  and  teachers  in  the  books  and  methods  to  be 
used  in  their  education;  he  had  been  w^ont  at  times 
to  preach  to  them,  and  had  arranged  a  special  place  for 


THE  HAND  OF  THE  POPE  141 

them  in  the  Cathedral.  Thus  by  the  attention  he  gave 
to  the  rising  generation  around  him  he  had  succeeded 
in  gaining  their  confidence  and  enthusiasm,  and  had 
weaned  large  numbers  of  them  from  their  vices  and 
frivolities.  Now  he  entered  upon  a  systematic  effort 
to  directs,  their  a.musements  and  to  train  them  in  habits 
of  religious  propriety.  The  Advent  season  of  1495  he 
had  passed  in  retirement,  but  early  in  1^96,  as  the 
Carnival  drew  near,  he  was  impelled  to  action.  That 
annual  holiday  had  long  been  characterised  by  scenes 
of  wildest  revelry.  The  Florentine  boys  and  young 
men  amused  themselves  with  mad  frolics  and  drunken 
f eastings;  with  forced  tolls  exacted  from  passengers 
on  the  street  by  barring  the  way  with  poles  till  the 
money  was  paid ;  and  with  huge  bonfires,  round  which 
they  danced  and  sang,  or  over  which  they  pelted  one 
another  with  stones,  often  to  the  shedding  of  blood. 
The  worst  excesses  of  licence  had  been  in  some 
measure  restrained  since  Savonarola's  preaching  began 
to  tell  on  the  manners  of  the  city,  but  now  that  the 
great  Friar's  voice  was  silenced,  the  more  reckless 
spirits  were  preparing  to  celebrate  the  occasion  with 
all  thft-^fl  tnrbnIpTice  and  uncurbed  rioting'  Some- 
how he  got  hold  of  a  large  band  of  the  young  Floren- 
tines, and,  with  the  help  of  his  faithful  Fra  Domenico, 
r)rgf»:m&^d__f,hATin  irij^n__OTn|rls^  who  chose  Captains  for 
themselves.  He  set  up  altars  in  the  streets,  where  the 
boys  begged,  not  money  for  their  banquets,  but  contri- 
butions for  the  poor.  He  gave  them  hymns  and  sacred 
lauds  to  sing  —  some  of  them  written  by  himself  — 
instead  of  the  indecent  rhymes  of  former  days.  And 
then,  on  the  last  day  of  the  Carnival,  he  marshalled 
them  in  a  gr^d  procession,  and  led  them  through  the 


142  SAVONAROLA 

city,  chaunting  their  pious_songs,  visiting  the  principal 
churches,  and  finally  depositing  the  alms-boxes  in  the 
care  of  the  guardians  of  the  poor.  The  whole  scene 
struck  the  imagination  of  the  citizens;  older  people 
joined  in  the  march ;  decorum  took  the  place  of  riotous 
tumult;  and  the  Carnival  of  1496  was  felt  to  be  a 


triumph  of  Savonarola's  mliuence  for  good.  The  boys 
themselves^' Cic  kindled  Lu  enthusiasm;"  they  accepted 
the  rules  of  their  new  guilds — to  avoid  roasquerades, 
theatres,  gamblingT^ahces,  and~the^readin^of  Hcentious 
book^Ll^to  observe  simplicity  of  manners,  conduct,  and 
]  dr£!SS.;_to__goto  church,  take  the  sacrament,  and  keep 
NGod's  commandments.  And,  according  to  many  wit- 
nesses^ a  distinct  moral  improvement  became  visible 
among  the  youth  of  the  city. 

Meanwhile  the  Signory  and  the  Council  of  Ten  had 

been  anxiously  soliciting  the  Pope  and  some  friendly 

cardinals,  particularly   Caraffa   of    Naples,   with   the 

i.    view  of  obtaining  for  Savonarola  the  recall  of  the  in- 

3)   hibition  from  preaching.     So  far  as  appears,  though  no 

^    formal  recall  was  issued,  Alexander  at  last  was  induced 

^  to  grant  some  verbal  sanction  to  his  reappearance  in 

^     the  pulpit.     This  is  the  most  probable  explanation  of 

^    the  resolution  passed  by  the  Signory  on  11th  February 

V    1496,.  requesting  him  to  preach  the  Lent  sermons  in 

^   the  Cathedral.     He  readily  complied  witlTtKe  request, 

and  thusThe  first  period  of  compulsory  silence  came  to 

^  an  end. 


CHAPTER    XVI 

The  Uncompromising  Witness 

It  was  amid  a  scene  of  intense  excitement  that,  on 
17th,  FebniP^y J,^^^,  Savonarola  made  his  first  appear- 
ance in  the  Haf ,|i pr| ral  pn  1  pi t. p.f tp.r  an  interval  of  several 
months.  A  jubilant  throng  gathered  round  him  on 
his  way  through  the  streets,  and  an  armed  bodyguard 
marched  by  his  side  to  protect  him  from  secret  foes. 
Inside  the  great  building  every  inch  of  space  was 
occupied ;  the  vast  floor  and  raised  wooden  galleries 
were  densely  crowded  with  a  congregation  of  old  and 
young,  all  waiting  with  eager  expectancy  to  hear  their 
beloved  teacher  and  guide  once  more.  And  there 
again  in  the  pulpit  he  spoke  out  boldly,  andjadth 
unshaken  assurance  of  his  mission  ao  tho  messenger 
oJ__God.  He  declared  his  loyalty  to  the  Holy  Roman 
Catholic  Church,  and  his  readiness  to  submit  to  its 
decisions  both  himself  and  his  teaching.  But,  he  said, 
"  the  Pope  cannot  command  me  to  do  anything  which 
is  contradictory  to  Christian  charity  or  the  gospel.  I 
am  convinced  that  he  never  will ;  but  were  he  to  do  so, 
I  should  reply,  *  Now  you  are  in  error,  and  no  longer  a 
good  pastor  or  the  voice  of  the  Church.' "  As  for  him- 
self, he  did  not  believe  that  he  was  under  any  obliga- 
tion to  obey  a  command  to  leave  Florence,  inasmuch  as 


144  SAVONAROLA 

every  one  knew  that  his  removal  was  desired  solely 
from  motives  of  political  hatred,  and  would  bring  in- 
jury not  only~to  liberty,  but  to  religion.  Were  he  to 
see  clearly  that  his  leaving  a  city  would  be  attended 
with  spiritual  and  temporal  ruin  to  the  people,  he 
would  refuse  to  obey  the  command  of  any  living  man 
to  quit  it,  because  he  should  presume  that  his  superior 
in  giving  the  command  had  been  deceived  by  calumnies 
and  lies.  He  had  examined  his  ways,  he  avowed,  and 
found  them  pure.  Though  convinced  that  the  Briefs 
from  Romja_jiYPre  invPib'H^  inasmuch  as  they  were  in- 
spired by  false  reports,  he  had  resolved  to  be  prudent, 
and  therefore  had  so  far  kept  silent.  But  when  he 
saw  many  of  the  good  growing  lukewarm,  and  the 
wicked  more  and  more  bold,  he  felt  himself  constrained 
to  return  to  his  post.  "  I  would  fain  remain  silent,  but 
may  not,  for  the  word  of  God  is  as  a  fire  in  my  heart, 
and  unless  I  give  it  vent,  it  will  consume  the  marrow 
of  my  bones.  Come  then,  0  Lord,  since  Thou  wouldst 
have  me  steer  through  these  deep  waters,  let  Thy  will 
be  done." 

Neither  bribes  nor  terrors,  it  was  obvious,  could  in 
the  slightest  affect  the  tone  or  the  message  of  that  voice 
which  was  now  using  its  liberty  of  utterance  again. 
Assailed  by  slander  and  the  tongue  of  strife,  beset  by 
the  crafty  plots  of  conspirators  within  the  city,  and  by 
rapacious  princes  and  a  worthless  Pope  outside,  with 
his  life  menaced  by  poison  and  by  steel,  Savonarola 
stood  there  in  the  Cathedral  pulpit  as  the  uncom- 
promising witness  for  the  claims  of  God  and  the 
rights  of  the  people,  for  the  freedom  of  the  reason 
and  the  conscience  of  man  from  all  authority  save 
that  which   commends    itself    as    Divine.     The  hand 


THE  UNCOMPROMISING  WITNESS      145 

that  fain  would  crush  him  and  through  him  the  hopes 
of  Florence,  though  it  had  relaxed  its  grip  for  a 
moment,  was  ready,  he  strongly  suspected,  to  seize 
a  pretext  for  tightening  it  again;  yet  he  fearlessly 
asserted  the  eternal  obligations  of  purity,  justice,  and 
charity  on  all  ranks  of  men,  high  as  well  as  low,  and 

prr>p^1a.iry|pd  ^^p  |-P,«^pf)Tisihility  nf   thi'.    in<11  vIiliiM.l    Kim]  to 

Qod  alone.  This  was  the  prevailing  note  of  those  Lent 
sermons  of  1496.  With  astonishing  variety  of  style, 
incisive  vigour  of  phrase,  boldness  of  imagery,  abound- 
ing wealth  of  illustration,  and  redoubled  fire  and  rush 
of  eloquence,  he  denounced  the  vices  of  Rome,  and  the 
harlotries  and  abominations  tolerated  there;  and  de- 
claimed against  the  hypocrisies  in  religion  and  the 
compounding  by  sacraments  and  ceremonies  on  par- 
ticular days  for  general  laxity  and  ungodliness.  He 
predicted  the  woes  yet  to  come_upoil_ltaly,  the  war, 
famine,  and  pestilence  that  would  scourge  its  people  to 
repentance  ;  sounded  warnings  against  the  enemies  of 
the  Republic,  against  the  spirit  of  faction,  and  all  dis- 
honest means  of  influencing  the  election  of  ofiicials 
by  one  party  or  another ;  described  the  evils  wrought 
by  tyrants,  whose  power  meant  the  extinction  of 
virtue  and  all  that  was  best  in  the  life  of  man  ; — de- 
fending himself  also  from  the  aspersions  of  adver- 
saries, who  sought  through  him  to  strike  at  popular 
government  and  liberty  ;  and  insisting  on  his  owfljitle 
to  interpret  the  Pope's  commands  in  the  light  of  their 
-j    hanaOBjLWitirGfaTistiairc^  and  religion,  instead 

I    of  y.ieldin^C-tamely  to  decrees  based  on  the  lying  infor- 
^^^jns^tion  oLdetractors. 

Those  sermons  were  founded  on  texts  taken  from 
Amos  and  Zechariah,  and  the  whole  population  was 


y 


146  SAVONAROLA 

stirred  during  the  weeks  in  which  they  were  delivered. 
The  fame  of  them  spread  over  Italy  and  into  other 

landsj and   in   France^   Germariyj__aiid  England   the 

pn wf^rfn  1  voi P.ft_ jvh i oh  wns  th ri  1  ]mg  F1  oren o.e  awoke 
an  eeho  in-many-i^earts.  There  was  an  uneasy  com- 
m^:itiaa_3lso  among  the  Italian  princes,  and  several  of 
them,  such  as  Ludovico  Sforza  of  Milan  and  the  Duke 
of  Ferrara,  were  constrained  to  enter  into  correspond- 
ence with  the  redoubtable  preacher,  remonstrating 
with  him  on  the  strong  reproofs  he  was  hurling 
against  the  ruling  powers,  and  the  political  passions 
he  was  arousing  thereby. 

/"  In  Florence  itself  the  excitement  was  varied  on 
Palm  Sunday  by  another  procession  of  the  children, 
specially  arranged  by  Savonarola  to  celebrate  the 
practical  inauguration  of  the  Monte  di  Pieta.  Many 
thousands  of  boys,  all  clad  in  white,  and  with  gar- 
lands on  their  heads  and  crosses  or  palm-branches  in 
their  hands,  marched  through  the  city,  carrying  a 
tabernacle  adorned  with  a  painting  of  the  Lord  Jesus 
riding  on  an  ass  into  Jerusalem.  Behind  them  fol- 
lowed a  long  array  of  men,  women,  and  girls,  also 
dressed  in  garb  befitting  the  occasion,  and  again  and 
again  the  cry  was  raised  by  young  and  old,  "Live 
Jesus  Christ,  our  King."  The  procession  ended  its 
course  at  the  piazza  of  San  Marco,  where  the  monks, 
crowned  with  festal  wreaths,  came  forth  from  the 
convent,  and,  forming  themselves  into  a  ring,  moved 
gaily  round  the  Piazza,  singing  hymns  and  with  steps 
keeping  time  to  the  music.  After  this  the  zeal  of  the 
young  people  on  behalf  of  the  Fra  Girolamo  became 
quite  irrepressible ;  their  mothers  could  not  keep  them 
in  bed  on  the  mornings  when  he  was  to  preach,  so 


THE  UNCOMPROMISING  WITNESS      147 

impatient  were  they  to  be  in  their  places  in  the 
Cathedral.  Their  ardour  in  good  works  restrained 
their  elders  from  open  sin.  "  Tt  was  a  blessed  time," 
wrote  Landucci  of  that  reign  of  reverence  and  pious 
fervour  among  the  children, — *'hnt  brief"  Yet  brief 
as  it  was  in  its  more  directly  religious  manifestations, 
it  planted  principles  and  impulses  in  the  hearts  of 
the  young  Florentines  of  that  generation  which  gave 
fibre  to  their  character,  and  prepared  many  of  them 
for  noble  action  in  behalf  of  the  Republic  amid  the 
troubles  and  conflicts  of  after  years. 

In  the  midst,  however,  of  all  this  popularity  and^^ 
admiration,  there  was  an  immense  amount  of  partisan 
agitation  and  intrigue.  In' the  "shops  and  market- 
places,  and  at  ^treet~corners,  men  talked  passionately, 
and  with  sharp  divergencies  of  opinion,  on  the  personal 
merits.^aims^  and  policy  ot  tKeir  j::eiB^t^k-arble—  Friar. 
The  Arrabbiati  were  busy  in  disseminating  suspicions 
of  his  motives  and  in  undermining  his  influence  on  the 
public  mind.  Attacks  were  made  upon  him  in  writing, 
and  tracts  and  letters  full  of  scurrilous  accusations 
were  circulated  through  the  city.  He  was  assailed 
in  songs  and  ballads  which  held  up  to  ridicule  his 
sayings  and  doings.  His  disciples  took  up  the  chal- 
lenge, and  replied  in  pamphlets  and  verses  to  the 
insults  heaped  upon  their  master.  He  had  still  a 
following  of  overwhelming  strength,  but  as  political 
jealousy  found  time  to  work,  and  as  the  glamojir-of 
his  first^successes  beganto__wear  off,  the  opposing  and 
dissentient  section  of  the  community  gained  confidence 
to  give  vent  to  their  hitherto  secretly  nursed  hostility. 
At  Rome,  again,  the  Pope  was  moved"  to  appoint  a 
consistory  of  Dominican  theologians  to  inquire  into  the 


148  SAVONAROLA 

charges  of  heresy,  schism,  and  rebellion  against  the 
HoT^^ee,  under  which  the  Friar  and  his  adherents 
had  been  laid;  but  the  only  result  of  this  gathering 
was  a  Papal  message  to  the  Signory  to  take  care  that 
in  future  Savonarola  should  be  more  guarded  in  his 
teaching,  and  that,  "like  all  the  best  preachers,"  he 
should  refrain  from  intermeddling  with  the  things  of 
this  world  and  political  affairsf^^ 

A  visit  which  he  paid  to  Prato  at  the  close  of  Lent 
brought  him  a  number  of  distinguished  adherentsjrom 
amon^Jie^scholars,  learned  doctors,  and  ^ofessors  of 
the  Pisan  University  whom  he  had  an  opportunity  of 
addressing  there.  When  back  again  in  Florence,  he 
published  his  treatise  OnJh^SioTVjolicity  of  the  Christian 
_Z^/6^  a  work  in  which,  after  rebutting  the  charges 
made  against  him  at  Rome,  he  gave  a  popular  and 
exceedingly  readable  account  of  the  doctrines  of  the 
Catholic  faith,  stripped  of  the  usual  theological  tech- 
nicalities; and  in  his  sermons  on  Ruth  and  Micah 
during  the  summer  he  confined  himself  largely  to  the 
practical  questions  of  Christian  morality.  There  was 
a  lull  in  the  controversy  between  him  and  the  Pope ; 
and  in  all  probability  it  was  about  this  time,  though 
the  date  is  uncertain,  that  an  ^^'^:^t  w^^  ■moAa  fr^  bribe 
him  irito_ compliance  with  the  Pope's  wishes  and  policy 
by  the  offer  of  a  caidjixars  hat.  The  bearer  of  the 
offer,  according  to  Burlamacchi,  was  an  influential 
Dominican,  who  came  expressly  to  Florence  to  deliver 
the  message.  Savonarola,  however,  was  not  to  be 
bribed.  When  the  proposal  was  laid  before  him,  he 
courteously  told  the  Pope's  emissary  that  if  he  would 
condescend  to  be  one  of  his  auditors  atjiis  next  sermon 
he  would  take  means  to  convey  his  reply.     That  next 


THE  UNCOMPROMISING  WITNESS      149 

sermon,  so  far  as  can  be  ascertained,  must  have  been 
one  preached  by  request  of  the  Signory  in  the-^iaw 
hall  of  the  Greater  Council — a  noble  addition  to  the 
Palazzo  Vecchio^which  had  been  erected  by~tEe  advice 
of  Savonarola  himself  as  a  suitable  meeting-place  for 
the  legislators  of  the  restored  Republic.  In  the  course 
of  his  sermon  there  on  20th  August  1496,  Savonarola 
found  occasion  to  say  that  the  only  red  hat  he  wished 
to  have  v^as  one  dyed  in  the  blood  of  his  own  martyr- 
dom^^^^^I  seek  neither  hat  nor  mitre.  I  desire  only 
that  which  Thou  hast  given  to  Thy  saints — death,  a 
crimson  hat,  a  hat  of  blood." 

For  many  weeks  after  this  Savonarola  abstained 
from  preaching.  The  condition  of  Florence,  owing  to 
poverty,.. _di&ease^_andfamine,  was  becoming  a  matter 
of  serieua  eoficem.  The  unsettlement  of  the  last  two 
years  had  checked  the  tide  of  commercial  prosperity. 
The  subsidy  promised  to  Charles  viii.  and  the  ex- 
penses incurred  by  the  harassing  war  with  Pisa  had 
laid  a  heavy  burden  on  the  people,  and  a  bad  harvest- 
season  had  impoverished  the  peasantry  around,  who 
came  flocking  into  the  city,  starving  and  crying  for 
bread.  Pestilence  broke  out  and  aggravated  the 
misery.  The  wealthier  followers  of  Savonarola  dis- 
played most  praiseworthy  humanity  in  ministering  to 
the  wants  of  their  poorer  neighbours.  Many  of  them 
gave  shelter  to  the  wandering  country-folk  in  their 
own  houses ;  others  were  active  in  succouring  the  sick 
and  distressed,  and  in  watching  over  them  in  the 
hospitals.  At  the  same  time  the  powers  forming  the 
so-called  Holy  League  redoubled  their  efforts  to 
terrorise  Mar§5L?^J?^tp  abandoning  the  French  alliance. 
Ludovico  of  Milan,  who  had  first  invitedTHeTrench 


ISO  SAVONAROLA 

monarch,  now  instigated  Maximilian  i.  tq^makg  a  de- 
sce|i^_into_rtaly  and  lend  his  aij  ip  the,  interests  of 
th&-Laague;  while  the  Venetian  fleet,  by  hlop.karlinpr 
LeghanvciiLjo£L  the  Florentine  sullies  from  abroad. 
And  in  the  midst  of  all  these  calamities  a  heavy  loss 
was  sustained  by  the  de^h  of  that  brave  soldier  and 
honest  friend  of  Florentine  liberty,  Pjero  Ca^poni.^ 
who  was  killed  by  a  ball  in  one  of  the  engagements 
of  the  Pisan  War,  leaving  a  blank  not  easy  to  fill. 
The,£ope-on  his  part  was  pursuing  his  resolve  to_e£ush 
the  Republic  PTid  to  reinstate  Piero  de  Medici,  who 
would  be  a  submissive  tool  in  his  hands.     The  Floxen- 

L tines  had  hoped  much  from  Charles  viii..  but  he  failed 
them  in  their  hour  of  need.  All  this  was  severely 
trying  to  Savonarola.  It  furnished  ground  for  the 
reproachful  taunts  of  his  enemies.  It  encouraged  the 
Arrabbiati  and  the  adherents  of  the  Medici  to  expept 
that  hisu^opulantyjmulii_soon_colla  and  the  new 
government  fall  to  pieces. 

Yet  even  in  that  dark,  distressful  crisis  Florence 
received  a  fresh  illustration  of  Sayonarola's_amazing 
and  seemingly  janfailing  power.  The  Signory  had 
again  to  ask  his  aid  in  the  public  extremity,  and  in 
a  sermon  which  he  preached  at  their  invitation  in  the 
Cathedral  on  28th  October,  he  succeeded  to  a  singular 
degree  in  reviving  the  spirit  and  fortitude  of  the 
people.  Referring  to  a  procession  which  it  was  pro- 
posed to  hold  in  bringing  the  miraculous  image  of  the 
Madonna  dell'  Impruneta  into  the  city,  he  expressed 
his  confidence  in  the  blessing  that  would  attend  such 
an  act  of  penitential  devotion.  "  Form  this  procession," 
he  said,  "it  will  be  a  goodly  thing;  and  if  you  turn 
to   God  in  a  right  spirit,  I  believe  that  some  great 


THE  UNCOMPROMISING  WITNESS      151 

grace  will  be  bestowed  upon  us,  and  we  shall  need  to 
stand  in  fear  of  none."  And  just  two  days  afterwards, 
when  the  long-drawn-out  procession  was  on  its  way, 
and  when  the  files  of  white-robed  youths  and  bearded 
men,  craftsmen  in  their  various  companies  and  guilds, 
monks  and  friars  cowled  and  frocked  according  to 
their  several  orders,  priests,  canons,  and  dignitaries  of 
the  Church,  were  marching  slowly,  with  penitential 
chaunts,  through  the  hunger-stricken  throng  in  the 
narrow  streets,  bearing  the  antique  cabinet  in  which 
the  figure  of  the  "Pitying  Mother"  was  enshrined,  a 
horseman,  waving  an  olive-branch  in  his  hand,  came 
galloping  across  one  of  the  bridges  and  down  the 
Lung  Arno,  and  dashed  right  on  till  he  overtook 
the  moving  crowd.  He  _was  the  bringer__of  the 
welcome  tidings  that  a  number  of  ships  from  France, 
laden^^with  corn"  and  soldiers,  haa  safely'  arrived 
at JieghornJbyjEavpuiL JiL-a^-^^  which  had 

kept  the  blockading  fleet  at  a  distance ;  and  as  the 
news  spread  shouts  of  joy  rang  out  all  along  the 
packed  thoroughfares ;  the  bells  were  set  pealing,  and 
in  the  midst  of  the  extraordinary  excitement  the 
words  of  Savonarola  were  remembered,  and  this  addi- 
tional and  startling  proof  of  his  my5taiiQiia.jnsight 
ji>  into  the  secrets  of  Provi^suce  awoke  a  nejaz— passion 
ijU''^  of  popjolarenthusiasm  in  his  favour,  and  almost  for 
the  moment  paralysed  his  foes. 

Nevertheless,  vexations  continued  to  beset  him. 
Copies  of  letters,  purporting  to  be  written  by  himself, 
and  urging  the  King  of  lb  ran£e_k)-  another  invasion  of 
Ital^iUiad  been  circulated  by  Ludovico  of  Milan,  who 
declared  that  he  had  intercepted  them  on  their  way  to 
Charles.     Savonarola  pronounced  the  letters  forged,  as 


152  SAVONAROLA 

subsequent  revelations  proved  them  to  have  been ;  but 
for  the  time  they  gave  rise  to  misrepresentations  v^hich 
v^^ere  acutely  embarrassing.  Once  more  also  the  Pope 
struck  in  with  an  exceedingly  skilful  blow.  It  came  in 
the  shape  of  a  Brief,  dated  7th  November,  and  addressed 
to  the  Dominican  convents  in^TTi^^^T^y,    San  Marco's 

among  them,  nrr\ awning  f.Vifl.f  fViAy  shonlfl  all  LA-wiitprl 
with  the  "DoTniniPari  f^r^nvAnf.H  in  thp  prnvinp,f>  nf  Rmmp^ 

and  so  fnrpg  pnA  T^'^'^^-T^nTinflTi  pnngregfl.f.ioTi^  the  vicar 
of  which,  in  the  first  instance,  was  to  be  nominated  by 
his  Holiness,  and  to  depend  for  his  authority  on  the 
Roman  Vicar-General,  the  supreme  head  of  the  order. 
The  effect  of  such  a  decree  was  to  depsiKeuSaiicm^ola 
of  Ihe  independence  which  he  had  hitherto  enjoyed,  and 
to  render  himsuBject  to  removal  from  Florence  at  any 
moment  which  the  superior  at  Rome  might   choose. 
^  Savonarola  protested    in    a    pamphlet,    entitled    An 
Apology  for  the  JJmLgreaation  of  SamUKao^o,  in  wEiclT 
he  appealed  to  the  public  at  large  against  the  injustice 
of   the   new  ordinance,  grounded  as  it  was  on  false 
information,  and  contrary  to  charity.     He  maintained 
that   the   uni,Qij^  with   the   Roman  convents  proposed 
would   involve   the   adoption   of   a  less  strict  xiUe-o^f 
relifflous  life,  and  would  undo  the  good  work  of  reform 
which  had  already  been  accomplished  ;  and  he  pleaded 
that  he  and  his  brothers  of  San  Marco  could  not  allow 
themselves  to  be  cowed  by  threats  or  excommunications, 
but  must  be  ready  to  face  death_i'ather  than  submjl  go 
that  which  would  be  poison  and  ruin   to  their  souls. 
TlTere  was  a  trumpet-blast  of  revolt  against  all  spiritual 
despotism  in  his  closing  words :  "  When  the  conscience 
rebels  against  a  command  received  from  a  superior,  we 
must  first  resist  and  humbly  correct   him,  which  we 


THE  UNCOMPROMISING  WITNESS      153 

have  already  done ;  but  i£  that  is  not  enough,  then  we 
must  act  like  St.  Paul,  who,  in  the  presence  of  all, 
withstood  Peter  to  his  face."  This  was  a  danug 
position  in  f^akej^ip,  and  it  made  abundantly  clear  the 
probability  that  if  Alexander  vi.  should  insist  on  the 
enforcement  of  his  decree,  he  would  be  openly  and 
resolutely  defied. 

The  Florentine  envoy  at  Eome,  supported  by  many 
influential  friends,  did  all  in  their  power  to  prevent 
such  a  result,  and  for  a  time  definite  action  was 
suspended.  Savonarola  went  on  preaching,  and  in  his 
Advent  sermons  on  Ezekiel  he  urged  the  people  to 
virtuous  living  and  to  gratitude  to  God  for  their  free 
institutions ;  and  he  called  on  them  to  protect  their 
lij^ierty,  to  watch  against  treachery,  to  su*ppress  vice, 
and  to  maintain  justice.  "  Do  justice,  therefore, 
magnificent  Signory ;  justice.  Lords  of  the  Eight ; 
justice,  magistrates  of  Florence ;  justice,  men  and 
women  ;  let  all  cry  for  justice  ! " 

There  was  no  further  sign  from  the  Pope  while  these 
sermons  were  being  delivered.  Alexander  had  his  own 
perplexities  in  connection  with  the  adverse  fortunes 
attending  the  military  efforts  of  the  League.  Maxj- 
miliarjjDaffled  in  his  attempt  to  capture  Leghorn,  had 
retH?ed — iTig1or'<^^1s1y  northwards,  fuming  over  the 
jealousies,  divided  counsels,  and  general  nm^eh'ableness 
of  bia- Italian  -allies.  The  pressure  on  Florence  was 
accordingly  relieved,  and  in  the  brighter  aspect  of 
affjiirs  Savonarola  again  stood  out  in  popular  estimation 
as  the  bulwark  of  the~State.  capable  not  only  ot  holding 
his  own  against  Rome,  but  also  of  rescuing  the  city  y 
from  the  machinations  of  its  enemies. 


CHAPTER   XVII 
The  Pyramid  of  Vanities 

The  year  1497  opened  for  Savonarola  in  comparative 
quiet.  During  its  first  months  he  was  engaged  in 
writing  his  great  theological  work,  The  Trmmph  of  the 
Cross.  Fra  Domenico  da  Pescia  took  his  place  in  the 
Cathedral,  and  in  his  sermons  there  laboured  fervently 
to  further  the  progress  of  religious  reform.  Moreover, 
the  members  of  the  Signory  just  elected  were  all 
adherents  of  Savonarola's  own  party,  the  Piagnoni,  and 
the  social  and  politicaTlnterests  of  the  city  appeared 
to  be  in  good  keeping,  more  especially  as  Francesco 
Yalori,  his  zealous  supporter,  held  the  office  of  Gon- 
faloniere!  With  all  his  zeal,  however,  Yalori  was 
wanting  in  discretion,  and  in  his  anxiety  to  find  a 
means  of  outnumbering  the  aristocratic  opponents  of 
the  democratic  government,  he  procured  the  passing  of 
a  law_bywhich  the  age  for  admission  to  the  Greater 
(t^  Council  was  reduced_jEQin^-  thirty_J^o^_twent3^-four. 
Savonarola's  advice  was  against  such  a  step,  and7as  he 
feared,  the  result  of  the  new  measure  was  the  intro- 
duction into  the  Council  of  some  of  the  most  violent 
young  men  of  the  Arrabbiati  party.  This  was  a  section 
of  the  community  which  Savonarola's  good  work  had 
failed  to  touch.    He  had  been  remarkably  successful,  as 

164 


THE  PYRAMID  OF  VANITIES         155 

we  have  seen,  in  his  influence  over  the  lads  and  youths  of 
the  city  ;  but  there  were  large  numbers  of  the  younger 
members  of  aristocratic  families  whose  hostility  to  his 
political  ascendancy  was  embittered  by  fierce  irritation 
at  the  strict  yoke  of  virtue  wTiich  he  imposed.  These 
were  the  Compagnacci,  or  Jjlvii  Companions,  already 
described — wild  and  dissolute  young  fellows,  who  had 
now  banded  themselves  together  under  the  leadership 
of  the  reckless  Dolfo  Spini,  as  sworn  enemies  of  popular 
govei:iim^t,  and  stilF  more  as  enemiesofSavonarola 
and  his  rigid  restraints  on  the  extravagances,  pleasures, 
and  follies  on  which  they  were  bent.  By  admitting 
such  men  to  a  power  which  they  were  only  too  glad  to 
seize,  Valori's  new  law  proved  a  danger  to  the  common- 
wealth. It  brought  into  the  rp.mon  of  pilbIi/*L_lTf^  a 
turbulent  elf^m^nt  which  seriously  impeded  the_hea1thy 
progress  of  the  State,  and  henceforth  it  became  more 
possible  for  the  adversaries  of  Savonarola  to  thwart  his 
beneficent  labours  and  deal  him  a  deadly  blow. 

For  the  time  being,  however,  the  distinguished  Friar 
remained  the  dominant  power.  He  had  his  eye  and 
his  hand  on  the  leading  movements  in  the  city.  He 
secured  from  the  Signory  more  effective  regulations  for 
the  improvement  of  manners.  Through  Fra  Domenico 
he  perfected  the  organisation  of  the  children,  drilling 
them  into  a  sort  of  police  force  or  sacre3  militia,  whose 
duty  it  was  to  protest  against  all  indecencies,  reprove 
vice,  and  report  on  any  flagrant  criminalities  which 
they  might  observe.  There  can  be  little  doubt  that 
those  boy-police  were  betrayed  into  occasional  excesses 
of  zeal.  Their  methods  must  often  have  seemed 
inquisitorial  and  impertinent,  and  murmurs  of  com- 
plaint  were   sure   to   arise.     Yet  on  the  whole  it  is 


156  SAVONAROLA 

clear  that  the  good  eifect  of  the  movement  amongst  the 
young  was  warmly  recognised  by  the  general  body 
of  honest  and  well-disposed  citizens.  It  presented  a 
favourable  contrast  to  the  irreverent  and  licentious 
tendencies  which  had  hitherto  been  so  patent. 

As  the  Carnival  again  approached,  Savonarola  re- 
solved on  a  demonstration  of  an  unusually  imposing 
character.  He  would  celebrate  the  festival  with  a  still 
more  complete  reversal  of  its  profane  revelries  than 
on  the  previous  year.  Florence  should  be  called  upon 
to  make  a  full  and  solemn  sacpificp  of  her  vanities. 
Accordingly,  for  several  days  the  youthful  disciples  of 
the  Friar  were  sent  round  the  city  in  companies, 
visiting  from  door  to  door,  carrying  with  them  baskets, 
and  calling  for  the  surrender  of  all  articles  which 
might  minister  to  luxury,  frivolity,  and  empty  show ; 
and  on  every  house  where  their  demand  was  met  they 
pronounced  a  benediction.  In  this  way  they  collected 
an  enormous  number  of  objects  usually  associated  with 
the  giddy  levities  and  self-indulgent  pleasures  of  exist- 
ence— masks,  wigs,  and  masquerading  costumes  ;  copies 
of  loose  songs,  books  of  amorous  poetry,  romances  and 
licentious  tales  ;  ornaments  and  trinkets  of  all  kinds ; 
perfumes,  cosmetics,  mirrors,  veils,  and  false  hair ; 
flutes  and  guitars ;  cards,  dice,  and  gaming-tables ; 
pictures  of  the  nude,  portraits  of  popular  beauties, 
indecent  works  of  art.  These  were  borne  with  great 
glee  to  the  Piazza  della  Signoria,  and  piled  up,  tier 
above  tier,  on  a  huge  octagonal  pyramid  of  wood  which 
had  been  erected  there.  Then  on  the  closing  day  of 
the  festival  an  eager  throng  filled  the  Piazza.  The 
thousands  of  children,  who  had  marched  in  procession 
through  the  streets  collecting  money  for  the  Good  Men 


THE  PYRAMID  OF  VANITIES         157 

of  San  Martino,  were  gathered  in  the  central  space ; 
and  while  their  hymns  rose  to  the  sky,  and  the 
trumpets  sounded  and  the  bells  rang  out,  the  mighty 
pile  was  set  ablaze,  and  in  whirling  smoke  and  crackling 
flame  its  mass  of  miscellaneous  contents  was  reduced 
to  ashes. 

"^uch  was  the  Burning  of  the  Vanities.  So  absorbing 
was  the  interest  it  stirred  in  the  city,  that  all  attempts 
to  celebrate  the  Carnival  with  the  wanton  licence  of 
old  days  were  effectually  arrested.  At  this  modern 
date  the  spectacle  wears  a  curious  and  almost  fantastic 
aspect ;  but  in  that  age,  and  among  Itali^wi^-whose 
m inds  were  swayad-by  strong  religious  excitement  and 
at  thi3.  Rfl.mp  tiTTip.  la.rgp.ly^imbued  with  the  ideas  and 
emotions  oljnedigevalism,  it  would  be  less  calculated  to 
produce  an  impression  of  extravagance.  No  protest 
was  raised  against  it  by  the  generation  which  witnessed 
the  scene ;  and  the  strictures  passed  on  Savonarola 
for  allowing  the  destruction  of  literary  treasures  and 
works  of  art,  which  the  affair  is  surmised  to  have  in- 
volved, are  of  comparatively  recent  date.  There  may 
have  been  consumed  in  the  great  bonfire  some  stray 
copies  of  Boccaccio,  whose  writings  were  then  in  high 
favour,  or  some  few  pictures  which  it  might  have  been 
of  importance  to  preserve.  Nevertheless  it  is  extremely 
doubtful  whether  the  pile  really  contained  so  much  that 
was  exceptionally  valuable  m  art  or  literature  as  the 
critics  have  been  inclined  to  suppose.  Savonarola's  cen- 
sures on  the  indecent  character  of  many  of  the  writings 
and  paintings  which  appealed  to  the  popular  taste  of  his 
day  were  certainly  severe,  and  he  was  often  intensely 
roused  by  th  econtaminating  influence  thereby  exerted 
on  the  youth  of  the  city.     But  he  was  no  rabid  icono- 


158  SAVONAROLA 

clast,  carried  away  by  a  frenzy  of  fanaticism.  Had 
he  y^f^ri  so  he  would  never  hav^  /^ained^the  regarO^oT 
that -eminent  classica]__scholar  and  student.  Marsilio 
Ficino,  who  by  this  time  had  become  his  sincere  ad- 
mirer. Fond,  iif  ^poetry  himself,  he  had  among  his 
friends  the  poet  Girolamo  Benivieni,  who  composed 
many  of  the  hymns  sung  by  the  children  in  their  pro- 
cessions. Though  for  many  years  Savonarola  had 
n^lectedthe  humanities  for  oth^^^^^d  grflv:^j_pnrRiiif,s 
it  wa,s  noL,  because  he  despised  the  humanities,  but  be- 
cause the  force  of  circumstances  and  of  his  own  sense 
of  duty  constrained  him  to  enter  on  a  practical  moral 
and  religious  work  which  engrossed  his  thought  and 
energy.  He  believed  in  the  value  of  poetry  as  an  aid 
to  the  elevation  and  refinement  of  the  human  mind ; 
and  in  an  essay  wKich  he  once  wrote,  "  In  Apology  of 
the  Art  of  Poetry,"  he  gave  forth  his  views  as  to  what 
true  poetry  should  be — a  means  of  so  presenting  ideas 
by  example  and  figure  and  rhythmic  language  as  not 
only  to  enlighten  but  to  enchant,  not  only  to  convince 
but  to  charm. 

Savonarola's  genuin^^preciati£uuif_the  productions 
of  literary  genius  is  decisively  proved  by  the  exertions 
and  sacrifices  he  made  to  rescue  the  Library  of  the 
l\Tp.dio.ij  which  had  fallen  into  possession  of  the  State 
when  the  family  were  expelled  and  their  property  con- 
fiscated, but  which  was  now,  in  the  straitened  condition 
of  the  public  exchequer,  in  danger  of  being  sold  and 
dispersed  to  meet  some  heavy  claims.  The  loss  to 
Florence  would  have  been  irreparable ;  for  no  library  in 
Europe  at  that  time  contained  so  rich  and  complete  a 
collection  of  Greek  and  Latin  classics.  It  was  Savon- 
arola w^ho  interested  himself  above  all  others  in  avert- 


THE  PYRAMID  OF  VANITIES         159 

ing  the  danger.  He  induced  the  brethren  of  San 
Marco  to  raise  money  on  the  lands  belon^^iiig_tQ-ibhe 
convent,  and  by  this  means  he  was  enabled  to  make  a 
payment  of  two  thousand  florins  and  to  undertake 
responsibility  for  a  thousand  more,  with  the  result 
that  there  was  secured  to  Florence  that  precious 
Bihlioteca  Laurenziana  which  is  to  this  day  one  of 
its  principaT glories.  And  the  transaction  took,  place 
during  the  very  year  which  witnessed  the  Burning  of 
the  Vanities. 

With  reference  to  the  painting  and  sculpture  of  his 
age,  he  sometimes  indulged  in  language  of  strong 
fulmination  and  reproof,  and  not  without  reason. 
There  is  no  denying  the  pagan  tendency  which  had 
crept  into  Italian  art  towards  the  close  of  the  fifteenth 
century,  a  tendency  to  emphasise  the,sensuous  side  of 
life,  to  practise  sensuous  methods  of  representation,  to 
introduce  immodest  sentiments  and  dress  even  into 
sacred  pictures,  "  tricking  out  the  Mother  of  God  in  the 
frippery  of  a  ^courtesan."  It  was  against  this  that 
Savonarola  inveighed.  HQ,wa£jio  enemy  to  art  itself. 
His  quarrel  was  with  what  he  deemed  the  debasement 
qL  art,  and  he  endeavoured  to  purify  it  from  its 
sensual  taint,  his  contention  being  that  art  should  be 
employed  to  represent  elevated  and  spiritual  loveliness 
and  to  raise  the  thoughts  to  better  things.  He  was 
the  counsellor  and  inspirer  of  many  artists,  and  his 
influence  over  them  was  great.  He  founded  a  school 
of  design  in  his  own  convent,  and  one  brother,  the 
painter  Fra  Bartolommeo  della  Porta,  was  his  close  and 
devoted  friend.  Outside  the  convent  not  a  few  of  the 
most  distinguished  artists  were  to  be  reckoned  more  or 
less  distinctly   among    his    followers — Sandro    Botti- 


i6o  SAVONAROLA 

celli^  Lorenzo  di  Credi,  Luca  della  Robbia,  and 
Perugino ;  the  architect  Cronaca,  the  sculptors  Baccio 
da  Montelupo,  Ferrucci,  Baccio  Baldini,  Giovanni 
Carniola,  Michael  Angelo.  The  last  of  these,  and  the 
greatest,  was~'one~oFTiis  constant  hearers,  and  after- 
wards, in  old  age,  that  supremely  gifted  master  in  the 
domain  of  art  sought  edification  in  reading  and  re- 
reading the  sermons  of  the  preacher  who  had  taken  a 
strong  hold  on  his  reverential  regard.  Such  men  were 
first  attracted  by  the  dash  and  versatility  of  Savonarola's 
genius ;  then  they  were  charmed  by  the  frequent 
splendour,  glow,  and  originality  of  his  thoughts.  They 
saw  that  he  had  a  real  sense  of  beauty  and  a  feeling 
for  nature,  as  they  themselves  had,  and  that  he  under- 
stood the  best  ideas  of  classic  antiquity ;  while  at  the 
same  time  they  were  conscious  of  being  led  by  him  to 
larger  and  loftier  conceptions.  He  unveiled  for  them 
new  for  Tins  of  (yra.nrjmir  ^^n^  l^^^filinessT  ga's^  fresh 
Rtinaiilus  to  their  imagination  by  flashing  on  their 
vision  the  radiance  of  the  Christian  ideal,  and  thereby 
opened  for  them  a  wider  range  of  artistic  aspir.ation 
and  endeavour.  Hence  Dr.  Pastor,  quoting  a  number 
of  learned  authorities  for  the  statement,  declares  that 
his  "  influence  can  be  traced  in  many  of  the  works 
of  art  produced  by  his  contemporaries,"  and  that 
certain  incidents  which  Savonarola  was  wont  to 
describe  with  graphic  eloquence  in  his  sermons 
were  frequently  chosen  as  subjects  by  Florentine 
artists. 

It  must  be  evident,  therefore,  that  one  whose  attitude 
towfl.rrls  poAtry  pnd  painting  was  so  sympathetic  and 
inspiring,  could  not  have  been  wilfully  guilty  of 
destroying  any  books  or  pictures  of  sterling  merit  in 


THE  PYRAMID  OF  VANITIES         i6i 

the  memorable  bonfire  of  1497.  The  charges  urged 
against  him  of  displaying  on  that  occasion  a  fanatical 
opposition  to  literature  and  art  must  be  based  on  an 
exaggerated  estimate  of  the  value  of  the  objects  which 
were  then  consigned  to  the  flames. 


/ 


ti 


CHAPTER  XVIIl 

The  Sentence  of  Excommunication 

Notwithstanding  the  popular  favour  he  still  retained, 
and  the  success  of  his  effort  to  cleanse  the  Carnival 
celebrations  of  their  old  licence,  Savonarola  was  fully 
aware  of  the  increasing  danger  of  the  position  in  which 
he  stood.  Alexander  vi.  was  still  bent  on  his  policy  of 
coercing  or  enticing  Florence  to  abandon  the  alliance 
with  France,  and  he,  as  the  outstanding  obstacle  to 
that  policy,  was  constantly  menaced.  His  central  in- 
terest, however,  was  the  revival  of  true  religion  in 
Florence  and  throughout  the  land ;  and  his  soul  was 
pained  by  the  deepening  horror  of  the  innftoralities  and 
vices  going  on  at  Rome,  which  were  spreading  a 
defiling  influence  far  and  near.  The  scandalous  doings 
of  the  Borgia  family,  in  which  the  Pope  had  his  own 
guilty  share,  were  absolutely  crippling  thespiritual 
power-of  the  Church  and  covering  religion  with  con- 
tempt. Savonarola  could  not  hold  his  peace.  What- 
ever the  consequences,  he  felt  imppllArl  fp^utter  his 
prnf.paf  \r]  f.hft  name  of  God ;  and,  standing  in  the 
Cathedral  pulpit  in  Lent,  while  avoiding  any  personal 
attack  upon  the  Pope,  he  declaimed  against  the  lusts, 
sensualities,  and  crimes  which  were  more  and  more  dis- 
gracing the  Papal  Court,  and  enlarged  on  the  need  for 

162 


SENTENCE  OF  EXCOMMUNICATION      163 

the  Church's  purification.  He  avowed  his  determina- 
tion to  rouse  the  Christian  world  against  the  evil  of 
which  Rome  was  the  seat.  "  I  am  here,"  he  said,  "  be- 
cause the  Lord  appointed  me  to  this  place,  and  I  await 
His  call,  but  then  will  I  send  forth  a  mighty  cry  that 
shall  resound  throughout  Christendom,  and  make  the 
corpse  of  the  Church  to  tremble  even  as  trembled  the 
body  of  Lazarus  at  the  voice  of  our  Lord."  E^ 
communication  might  be  d_ecreed.  but  he  did  not  fear 
it-j-he  would  have  his  own  answer  to  give  which  would 
amaze  the  world.  In  striving  to  restore  religion  to  its 
purity  and  power,  he  was  prepared  for  a  worse  fate 
than  excommunication.  "  O  Lord,  I  seek  only  Thy 
cross,  ...  let  me  give  my  blood  for  Thee,  even  as 
Thou  gavest  Thine  for  me." 

In  fact,  excommunication  appeared  now  only  an  in- 
cident in  the  stern  conflict  which  he  felt  under  an 
imperative  obligation  to  carry  on  to  its  utmost  issues. 
The  cause  of  religion  and  righteousness  was  jeopardised 
by  the  notorious  iniquities  in  which  the  £g^  and  his 
family  were  steeped,  and  the  whole  moral  passion  of 
Savonarola's  soul  was  stirred.  Though  a  martyr's 
death  should  be  the  penalty,  he  could  make  no  com- 
promise at  a  juncture  so  momentous.  He  would 
kindle  the  indignation  of  Europe,  and  put  forth  a 
supreme  effort  to  stem  the  tide  of  pollution  which  was 
flowing  from  the  metropolis  of  Christendom.  That  it 
was  a  desperate  struggle  he  knew ;  he  had  a  clear  com- 
prehension of  the  malignant  forces  which  would  be 
aroused  against  himself  ;  but  an  inward  constraint  was 
upon  him  to  go  forward,  and,  once  committed,  there 
could  be  no  turning  back. 

The  Pope  was  highly  enraged  at  those  Lent  f  ulmina- 


1 64  SAVONAROLA 

tions,  which  were  duly  retailed  to  him  in  factiously 
exaggerated  reports.  Alexander  vi.  was  already 
strongly  incensed  against  Savonarola  on  account  of 
his  cool  and  resolute  resistance  to  the  order  requiring 
the  union  of  San  Marco's  and  the  convents  associated 
with  it  to  the  newly-created  Tusco-Roman  Congrega- 
tion, of  which  Cardinal  CarafFa,  an  old  friend  and  well- 
wisher,  had  been  appointed  as  head.  For  the  moment, 
however,  Al^xg^nder,  always  resourceful  in  statecraft, 
disguised  his  irritation,  and  adopted  an  adroit  means 
of  circumventing  the  Florentine  Friar.  He  secretly 
appealed  to  the  self-interest  of  the  Florentines  by 
offering:  to  obtain  for  them  the  restoration  of  Pisa, 
provided  they  would  show  themselves  "  good  Italians," 
break  their  alliance_with  France,  and  join  the  Holy 
League.  Attractive  as  the  proposal  seemed,  the 
Florentines  had  their  doubts  as  to  its  sincerity.  Their 
special  envoy  to  Rome,  Ser  Alessandro  Bracci,  was 
instructed  to  tell  the  Pope  that  while  the  Floren- 
tines were  not  only  "  good  "  but  "  excellent  Italians," 
and  had  no  wish  to  injure  any  Italian  power,  they 
rould  not  f^bandon  their  alliance  with  France.  To  this 
he  received  the  sarcastic  reply,  ""Sir  Secretary,  you  are 
as  fat  as  Ourself,  but  you  have  come  on  a  lean  mission ; 
and  if  you  have  nothing  else  to  say,  you  may  be  gone." 
Then,  after  asserting  his  belief  that  the  obstinacy  of 
the  Florentines  was  due  to  faith  in  the  prophecies  of 
their  "chattering  friar,"  Alexander  broadly  hinted  a 
threat  of  forcing  Florence  into  submission  and  creating 
a  revolution  in  its  affairs. 

The  threat  was  soon  put  into  execution.  Alexander 
gave  encouragement  to  Piero  de  Medici,  who  had  been 
hanging  on  at  Rome  and  leading  a  loose,  spendthrift 


SENTENCE  OF  EXCOMMUNICATION      165 

life,  to  make  another  attempt  on  Florence  and  recover 
his  place  there.  The  state  of  parties  in  the  city  at  the 
time  appeared  to  favour  the  enterprise.  The  younger 
members  of  the  aristocratic  families  had  at  once  taken 
advantage  of  Valori's  new  law,  redncinfy  the  age  for 
g.rlT]]j,c!Qinn  fr>  f>iA  HT-Qaf  riQ^iy^ml^  and  had  thrown  their 
weight  into  the  political  scale.  There  had  happened 
also  a  certain  fluctuation  of  feeling,  such  as  is  witnessed 
not  infrequently  in  connection  with  the  public  life  of  a 
community — a  distinct  swerving  of  opinion,  an  ebb  of 
popular  interest,  by  which  the  balanc^Tof  parties  is  un- 
expectedly  reversed.  And  so  it  came  about  that  when 
Valori's  two  months'  term  of  oflfice  expired  and  a  new 
Signory  was  elected  for  March  and  April,  the  repre- 
sentatives of  the  Arrabbiati  and  Medici  together  were 
in  the  majority,  and  chose  an  influential  and  trusted 
adherent  of  the  Medici  cause,  Bernardo  del  Nero,  for 
the  post  of  Gonfaloniers  This  was  a  blow  to  Savon- 
arola, and  a  triumph  for  his  foes ;  to  Piero  de  Medici 
it  furnished  an  opportunity  for  his  personal  designs, 
which  he  promptly  proceeded  to  turn  to  account,  with 
the  Pope's  blessing  and  support  to  aid  him.  Cheered 
on  by  a  message  from  his  partisans  in  Florence,  Piero 
mustered  a  force  of  thirteen  hundred  men,  and  by  rapid 
marches  was  soon  close  to  the  city  gates.  The  alarm, 
however,  had  been  given,  and  the  friends  of  liberal 
government  were  on  their  guard  and  prepared.  The 
gates  were  fortified  with  cannon,  and  kept  sternly 
closed,  .and  even  Bernardo  del  Nero,  who  had  mean- 
while sent  an  urgent  warning  to  Piero  to  delay  his 
attack  for  the  time,  was  constrained  by  the  current  of 
popular  sentiment  to  put  on  an  appearance  of  enthusi- 
asm for  the  city's  defence.     For  a  whole  day  Piero 


1 66  SAVONAROLA 

waited  with  his  troops  outside  the  walls,  but  no  sign  of 
welcome  or  of  co-operation  came  from  his  faction 
within ;  and,  having  no  spirit  to  run  desperate  risks, 
he  retired  in  discomfiture,  the  victim  of  delusive  pro- 
mises and  false  hopes,  but  leaving  behiiiiLJiiQi.  in 
Florence  itself  a  ferment  of  suspicions  and  fears  and 
embitte^^^  party  feeling  destined  to  cause  grave 
social  and  political  trouble  ere  long. 

The  Medicean  cause  was  thus  .for  the  moment  dis- 
credited. The  Pope  disowned  all  connection  with 
Piero.  The  ever-active  Arrabbiati,  seizing  their  advan- 
tage, so  worked  on  the  popular  unrest  as  to  gain  the 
ascendancy  at  the  next  election,  and  at  the  beginning 
of  May  1497  a  Signory  avowedly  hostile  to  Savonarola 
waa-4ilac£d_iiL_power.  The  effect  was  soon  visible  in 
riotous  outbreaks  and  in  the  renewal  of  those  licen- 
tious  scenes  which  had  now  for  a  considerable  period 
been  suppressed.  It  was  patent  in  many  ways  that  a 
^^  reaction  against  Savonarola's  rtinral  rloiyiinpfinn  had 
'^^egun.  His  followers  were  still  a  large  and  powerful 
body',  and  by  their  simple  dress  and  devout  demeanour 
the   Piagnoni  could   everywhere  be   recognised.      All 

lovers  a£  f)r(]f^.r  ATirl  good   govprriTpprtt,  wpr^  aIso  on  his 

side,  fl.nd  honoured  him  for  his  political  capacity,  his 
public  spirit,  and  his  unblemished  purity  of  life.  But 
the  sovereignty  he  had  wielded  over  the  manners, 
habits,  and  thoughts  of  the  people  was  gradually  slip- 
ping from  his  grasp.  In  the  minds  of  many,  a  keen 
disappointment  harl  bftpn  r.ansfid  by  th^  fnihire  of  his 
predictions  regarding  the  great  things  to  be  accom- 
plishoj^y  Charles  viii.,  and  accordingly  their  faith  in 
the  preacher,  whom  they  had  once  so  ardently  revered 
as  a  prophet  of  the  Lord,  was  losing  its  hold, 


SENTENCE  OF  EXCOMMUNICATION      167 

Owing  partly  to  the  impaired  condition  of  his  health, 
and  partly  to  the  delic^i^y  of  Jjtis. position  at  this  parti- 
cular stage  of  his  controversy  with  Rome,  Savonarola 
appeared  less  frequently  than  usual  in  the_Bulpit.  The 
arguments  which  he  was  obliged  to  employ  in  defending^ 
himself  against  his  traducers.  and  in  vindicating  his 
attitude  towards  the  Pope  and  his  disobedience  to  the 
mandate  regarding  the  Tusco-Roman  Congregation, 
robbed  his  preaching  of  its  wontmL-directness  and 
freedom.  He  was  hampered  by  the  tone  of  self-justi- 
fication  which  the  situation  was  more  and  moretorcing 
upon  him,  and  which  largely  coloured  his  sermons 
during  this  period.  Moreover,  the  Pope's  further 
action  was  still  a  matter  of  suspense ;  and  while 
the  position  was  complicated  and  liable  to  miscon- 
struction in  the  eyes  of  the  world,  he  felt  that  it 
was  only  under  some  special  call  or  distinct  neces- 
sity that  he  could  serve  any  good  end  by  speaking 
in  public.  The  time  for  open  defiance  had  not  yet 
come. 

In  consequence,  perhaps,  of  this  greater  seclusion 
and  rarer  appearance  in  the_ pulpit,  the  decline  .of 
Savgnarola/s^power  more^adily  set  in.  Nevertheless, 
from  the  first  the  causes  of  that  decline  must  have  been 
present,  although  for  a  while  their  operation  was 
arrested  by  the  subduing  force  of  so  lofty  and  master- 
ful a  personality.  Against  the  enforcement  by  formal 
enactments  and  prohibitions  of  a  hi^h-pitched  and 
austerejnorality  upon  a  p^ople_iig^ither  by  natiyejem- 
perament jQorJh^training  prepared^Jor-it,  the  reaction 
was  «irir<^^  gnnnpr  nr  later,  _^^  comc.  Its  comiug  was 
now  evident  in  the  accession  to  political  influence  of 
the  great  Friar's  opponents,  and  in  the  relaxed  decorum 


1 68  SAVONAROLA 

of  life  and  conduct  generally  by  which  that  circum- 
stance was  followed. 

Savonarola  was  made  the  object  of  an  insulting  and 
villainously  -  purposed  demonstration.  It  had  been 
announced  that  he  was  to  preach  on  Ascension  Day, 
the  4th  of  May,  before  an  order  of  the  Signory  pro- 
hibiting sermons  in  any  of  the  churches  should  come 
into  force — an  order  professedly  prompted  by  anxiety 
to  prevent  the  spread  of  the  plague  which  was  threat- 
ening the  city.  It  was  his  last  chance,  for  a  time  at 
least,  of  addressing  the  people,  and  he  resolved  to  embrace 
it.  During  the  previous  night  the  Compagnacci,  who, 
under  their  insolent  leader,  Dolfo  Spini,  were  gaining 
courage  to  pursue  their  lawl£SS_cour§es,  managed  to 
steal  into  the  Cathedral,  where  they  befouled  the 
pulpit  with  filth,  spread  the  raw  skin  of  an  ass  over 
it,  and  ran  nails  with  their  points  upwards  into  the 
board  on  which  he  was  wont  to  strike  his  hands  in  the 
excitement  of  speaking.  But  the  outrage  was  dis- 
covered in  good  time,  and  all  traces  of  it  cleared  away ; 
and  the  preacher's  enemies  had  the  mortification  of 
seeing  him  ascend  and  begin  his  discourse  with  per- 
fect calmness.  It  was  a  discourse  on  the  power  of 
faith,  intended  to  encourage  the  pious  in  meeting  the 
trying  times  for  religion  and  social  well-being  which 
evidently  w^ere  at  hand.  Suddenly  there  was  a  crash ; 
an  alms-box  had  been  broken  off  from  its  place  on  the 
wall  anii-Jiiiig_on_the  floor^  Itwas  the  doing  of  the 
graceless  young  aristocrats,  who  were  not  to  be  baffled 
in  their  evil-minded  designs.  A  panic  seized  the  con- 
gregation ;  there  was  a  wild  rush  for  the  doors,  and  a 
scene  of  frantic  confusion  ensued.  Friends  and  foes 
alike  made  a  dash  for  the  pulpit,  the  one  to  defend  the 


SENTENCE  OF  EXCOMMUNICATION      169 

preacher,  the  other  to  assail  him.  Savonarola  remained 
bent  over  the  desk  in  silent  prayer,  and  not  till  the 
tumult  had  so  far  subsided  did  he  descend  and  accept 
the  protection  of  his  loyal  adherents,  who  now,  armed 
with  swords  and  spears,  escorted  him  with  shouts  of 
Viva  Cristo  and  brandishing  of  weapons  to  his  convent 
gate. 

This  scandalous  scene  was  noised  abroad  and  became 
the  talk  of  the  day  all  over  Italy.  The  result  in 
Florence  was  an  edict  of  the  Signory,  positively  for- 
bidding friars  of  any  kind  to  preach  without  their 
permission,  while  the  wooden  galleries  provided  for 
Savonarola's  immense  audiences  were  all  removed. 
There  was  even  a  suggestion  mooted  that  thjo^^re- 
servation  of  the  public  peace  required  that  Savonarola 
himself  should  be  exTled,  although — a.nd  this  is  signi- 
ficant  of  the  change  of  feeling  which  had  occurred — 
the  real  authors  of  the  Cathedral  disturbance  were 
allowed  to  go  unpunished.  At  Rome  the  news  of  the 
tumult  on  Ascension  Day  hastened  the  Pope's  action 
in  faking  his  long  contemplated  step  and  signing  the 
Briaf^of  Excommunication.  That  former  disconifiled 
rivaI7Fra  Mariano,  it  seems,  had  been  enviously  busy 
in  instigating  Alexander  to  move  in  this  direction, 
and  to  crush  the  man  whom  he  vilified  as  "  the  per- 
dition of  the  Florentine  people."  Other  adversaries 
also  used  their  influence  for  the  same  end,  and  on 
13th  May  the  formidable  document  was  issued.  It 
was  a  remarkable  production.  Describing  Savonarola 
as  "  a  certain  Fra  Girolamo,"  who  was  reported  to 
be  Vicar  of  San  Marco  in  Florence,  and  who  had 
sown  abroad  pernicious  doctrine  to  the  scandal  and 
ruin  of  simple   souls,  it  proceeded   to  state  that  he 


'? 


170  SAVONAROLA 

had    been    commanded   in    a    Brief    to    desist    from 
preaching,  and  cojoao-io-JBiime  to  obtain  pardon  for 


his  errors.  He  had,  however,  declined  to  obey;  yet 
in  the  hope  that  he  would  be  converted  by  clemency, 
his  excuses  had  been  accepted  and  his  disobedience 
treated  with  gracious  forbearance.  That  hope  had 
been  disappointed,  and  accordingly  another  Brief 
had  been  issued,  ordai:Qmg  that  he  sho^ijd  nnitpi.  his 
conyent_  with  the_  new  YTusco-RomanCong^r^ation. 
Still  he  had  persisted  in  his  obstinacy,  setting  the 
ordinance  at  nought  and  disregarding  the  ecclesiastical 
censures  which  he  had  thereby  incurred.  "  Wherefore 
we  command  you,  on  all  festivals,  and  in  presence 
of  the  people,  to  declare  the  said  Fra  Girolamo  ex- 
communicate, and  to  be  held  as  such  by  all  men, 
for  his  failure  to  obey  our  admonitions  and  commands. 
Moreover,  all  persons  whatsoever  are  to  be  warned 
that  they  are  to  avoid  him  as  excommunicated  and 
suspected  of  heresy,  under  pain  of  the  same  penalty." 
Ere  receiving  this  Brief,  but  clearly  apprehensive 
that  the  blow  was  impending,  Savonarola  wrote  a 
letter  to  the  Pope,  complaining  that  heed  had  been 
given  only  to  the  false  accusations  of  his  enemies, 
while  the  evidence  in  disproof  of  those  accusations  had 
been  ignored.  He  had  never,  he  protested,  made  any 
personal  attack  upon  the  Pope  as  in  former  days  he 
had  had  to  rebuke  Fra  Mariano  for  doing.  He  was 
always  ready  to  submit  himself  to  the  judgment  of 
the  Church,  and  preached  no  other  doctrine  than 
that  of  the  Holy  Fathers,  as  would  soon  be  proved 
to  the  whole  world  in  his  forthcoming  work.  The 
Triumph  of  the  Cross.  If  all  human  help  should 
fail  him,  he  will  trust  in  God, 


SENTENCE  OF  EXCOMMUNICATION      171 

It  appears  from  subsequent  correspondence  between 
the  Florentine  envoys  in  Rome  and  the  Council  of  Ten, 
that  this  letj^er  had  a  softening  effect  on  Alexander  VI., 
and  .jiioved  him  to  regret  that  he  hnd  pigriorl  tAtA 
Erjef.  "Rut, it  came  too  late.  The  judgment  had  been 
pronounced  and  the  document  conveying  it  despatched 
before  the  letter  itself  was  penned. 

From  various  causes  the  Brief  of  Excommunication 
was  not-iMiveredr-in  Florence  till  the  18th  of  June. 
It  was  addressed  to  the  convents  of  Santa  Maria 
Novella,  Santa  Croce,  Santo  Spirito,  the  Badia,  and 
the  Annunziata;  and  in  the  churches  attached  to 
these  houses  it  was  solemnly  read  out  at  night  to 
the  assembled  monks,  amid  the  glimmer  of  candles 
and  the  occasional  tinkle  of  bells.  When  the  last 
word  was  reached,  the  lights  were  suddenly  extin- 
guished, leaving  the  listeners  to  retire  in  silence  and 
gloom. 

Immediately  copies  of  the  document  were  posted 
up  at  the  church  doors,  and  all  Florence  was  moved 
by  the  publication  of  the  awful  sentence  against  a  man 
who  had  filled  so  large  a  place  in  the  thoughts  and 
life  of  the  citizens.  The  Piagnoni  and  all  lovers  of 
order  were  thrown  into  grief;  the  Arrabbiati  were 
exultant  —  the  great  obstacle  to  their  hopes  of  con- 
verting  the   Republic  jnfoan   aristocratic   oligarchy 

wa.cj     riQw    qfrnnV    rlr>wri~"lrt      Tnnnfl.sf,i>     and     clerical 

circles  the  denouncer  of  ecclesiastical  delinquencies 
and  all  his  brethren  at  San  Marco  were  haughtily 
ostracised.  Very  soon,  moreover,  the  bonds  of  moral 
restraint  were  thrown  off.  The  wild  and  profligate  ^ 
elements  in  the  population  broke  loose,  and  the 
Compagnacci  led   the  way  in   headstrong  profanity. 


172  SAVONAROLA 

J^iotousness  and  revelry  again  disturbed  the  streets 
at  night ;  vice  and  wantonness  appeared  in  open  day ; 
the  taverns  were  once  more  filled ;  there  was  a  wide- 
spread return  to  extravagance  and  friYolitv.  Now 
that  the  p9tent  voice  which  had  so  long  kept  the 
immoral  tendencies  of  men  under  con trol_v^as  con- 
deniii£iL.to__silence,  there  was  a  rebound  to  the  old 
recklessness  and  licence. 

In  the  meantime  Savonarola  in  his  own  way,  and 
his  influential  sympathisers  in  theirs,  were  endeavour- 
ing to  meet  the  stroke  dealt  by  the  Papal  Brief.  He 
wrote  in  great  haste  an  Epistle  against  the  Sur- 
w/  re2^titious  Excommunication,  addressed  not  to  the 
Pope,  but  to  "  all  (Jhristians,  beloved  of  God."  In 
that  letter  he  reasserted  his  mission  as  God's  mes- 
senger to  announce  the  tribulations  which  were  to 
fall  on  Italy,  and  especially  on  Rome,  for  the  removal 
of  evils  and  the  renovation  of  the  Church;  and  then 
he  proceeded  to  argue  that  the  excommunication  was 
invalid  because  it  was  based  on  misrepresentations, 
and  put  forth  with  an  evil  intention  in  opposition 
to  God  and  the  truth.  He  had  never,  he  affirmed, 
been  disobedient  to  the  Holy  Roman  Church,  nor  to 
the  Pope,  nor  to  any  Superior  of  his,  down  to  that 
present  hour.  "  For  we  ought  to  obey  our  Superior 
in  so  far  as  he  holds  the  place  of  God ;  but  he  does 
not  hold  the  place  of  God,  and  is  ^ot  our  Superi^or, 

'^^^'^n  h^  OQTmTianrlq  wViaf  ia  pnnfj»a,ry  to  God.  Accord- 
ingly, it  has  happened  that  in  such  a  case  as  this  I 
have  not  obeyed,  knowing  that  neither  God  nor  the 
Church  wishes  me  to  obey  in  things  that  are  contrary 
to  their  commands."  In  closing  he  said  that  if  his 
arguments   were   not  listened   to    and    further  steps 


SENTENCE  OF  EXCOMMUNICATION      173 

were  taken  against  him,  he  would  make  the  truth 
known  to  all  the  world  in  such  a  fashion  that  no 
one  should  be  able  to  gainsay  it.  He  followed  this  . 
up  by  a  second  letter,  Ajjainst  the  Sentence  of  Ex-  ^^ 
cornniunicaiim^^Qdlin^  with  the  stibject  specially  in 
the  light  of  the  views  of  the  leading  authorities  on 
ecclesiastical  law,  and  particularly  quoting  Gerson's 
teaching  that  to  yi<^1d  nng^i^jfied  submission  to  an 
unjust  sentence  would  be  to  show  th.e  j)atifiiicfi-of-an 
ass  and  the  foolish  timidity  of  a  hare ;  that  it  is 
perfectly  lawful  to  appeal  from  the  Pope  to  a  General 
Council ;  and  that  in  many  cases  a  Pope  may  be 
disobeyed  when  he  scandalously  abuses  his  power  to 
an  evil  end. 

The  cogency  of  this  reasoning  has  been  subjected 
to  a  searching  criticism  by  Roman  Catholic  writers, 
and  the  criticisms  all  lead  to  the  same  conclusion. 
When  full  credit  has  been  given  to  the  sincerity  of 
Savonarola's  motives,  and  when  the  value  of  his  work 
for  the  reform  of  morals  has  been  recognised,  he  is 
still  pronounced  by  those  writers  as  flagrantly  at 
fault  _fnr  his  insubordination  in  refusing  acquiescence 
f.n  t'hfi  f'nTTiTnands  of  his  ecclesiastical  superior.  His 
attitude  in  adhering  to  his  own  honest  conviction 
of  right  and  ignoring  the  decrees  of  the  Pope  on 
the  ground  of  their  alleged  injustice,  is  condemned 
as  unwarrantable  presumption.  It  is  the  old  and 
endless  nnntrnyprsy  bp.twpf^n  (.hp.  absolute  authority 
claimjed  by  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  on  the  one 
hand,  and  the  natural  rights  asserted  on  behalf  of 
the  human  soul  and  conscience  on  the  other — a"  hope- 
less and  irreconcilable  antagonism.  So  long  as  a 
religious  corporation,  skilfully  organised  and  welded 


174  SAVONAROLA 

together,  insists  on  the  ordinances  of  its  official  head 
being  received,  outwardly  at  least,  with  unqualified 
submission,  and  so  long  as  the  spirit  of  man,  facing 
the  vital  questions  of  right  and  wrong,  dares  to  speak 
according  to  its  own  judgment  and  act  on  its  own 
warrant,  the  conflict  will  continue ;  and  no  logic  of 
argument,  nothing  but  the  logic  of  events  and  the 
slow  progress  of  the  world's  enlightenment,  will  avail 
for  its  settlement.  The  demands  of  absolutism  are 
held  as  completely  above  reason ;  they  are  bound  up 
with  so  many  vested  interests,  and  are  so  essential 
to  the  maintenance  of  the  old  traditional  power  and 
dazzling  prestige  and  glory,  that  there  is  no  prospect 
of  their  ever  being  abated  until  the  soul's  deep  instincts 
for  freedom  awake  to  strength  and  gather  courage 
to  defy  them. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

Six  Months  of  Silence 

Tre^  plagnpi   hax\    hroVf^n    out   and   was   working   its 
ravages  in  Florence  when  Savo];iajxda._iauiidJiimsel£ 

placed    under ban    by   the    excommunicatory   Brief. 

People  were  hurrying  out  of  tlie^city  and  seeking 
safety  in  the  purer  atmosphere  of  the  country  hamlets 
and  villages.  The  crowded  condition  of  San  Marco's 
was  a  source  of  anxiety.  Considering  the  large 
number  who  had  joined  the  brotherhood  through  the 
attraction  of  its  Prior's  fame  and  gifts,  there  was 
reason  to  fear  a  heavy  amount  of  suffering  and 
mortality  should  the  terrible  malady  seize  on  a 
community  so  closely  pent  up  together.  Savonarola 
met  the  emergency  with  that  practical  wisdom  and 
bold  decision  which  he  so  often  displayed.  He  seni, 
away  the  novices  and  younger  friars  to  places  where 
the  contagion  was  less  likely  to  reach  them,  and  then 
devoted  himself  to  the  edification  of  the  brethren  left 
behind  and  to  the  service  of  the  sick.  Friends  pleaded 
with  him  to  flee,  and  some  of  his  wealthier  adherents 
oflered  him  in  their  own  villas  a  secure  retreat  from 
the  danger.  But  whatever  faults  might  be  detected 
in  him,  he  never  failed  to  prove  that  he  had  a  heart 
too  big,  sound,  and  true  to  yield  to  personal  fear.     He 

176 


176  SAVONAROLA 

remained  with  steadfast  resolve  at  his  post  of  duty. 
His  usefulness,  however,  at  that  time  of  distress  was 
circumscribed  by  the  ecclesiastical  interdict  resting 
upon  him.  Still  the  gates  of  his  convent  were  open 
to  all  who  might  resort  to  him  for  comfort,  and  in 
those  weeks  of  trouble  and  dread,  when  fifty  or  sixty 
were  dying  in  a  day  in  the  pesti  1  p.r> cfi-f^tri  fjf^  ci ^y , 
and  the  burden  of  a  great  awe  and  sorrow  lay  on 
people's  minds,  there  were  many  who  found  in  his 
ready  sympathy  and  gracious  counsels  a  rich  sustain- 
ing strength.  And  while  in  this  way  he  cheered  the 
sad  and  anxious  around  him  in  Florence  itself,  he  did 
not  forget  those  friends  at  a  distance  who  were  in- 
volved in  the  severe  strain  and  concern  caused  by  the 
general  calamity.  To  not  a  few  of  them  he  wrote 
letters  of  encouragement,  calming  their  fears,  and 
exhorting  them  to  trust  in  God.  He  wrote  also  to  his 
own  family  at  Ferrara,  assuring  them  of  the  safety  of 
his  brother  vFra  Maurelio,  who  had  for  some  time  been 
associated  with  him  as  a  member  of  the  San  Marco 
brotherhood,  and  expressing  a  tenderness  of  affection 
still  unchilled  by  all  the  absorbing  interests  of  his  life 
and  all  his  experience  of  fame  and  power. 

One  letter  belonging  to  this  period  possesses  a  pecu- 
liar importance.  It  was  not  occasioned,  however,  by 
the  troubles  connected  with  the  plague,  but  by  a 
tragical  event  which  threw  into  blacker  relief  than 
ever  the  horrors  and  crimes  which  were  bringing  on 
Rome  the  scorn  of  the  world.  On  Jji£,  14th  xtLJ-iuae, 
the  .^Eopa's,  eldest  son^Piero  Borgia,  Duke  of  Gandia, 
was  foully  done,  to  .death  and  his  body  Jiuijg^  ijato  the 
Ti^er,  from  which  it  was  dragged  out  two  days  later. 
Suspicion  fell  on  several  distinguished  members  of  the 


SIX  MONTHS  OF  SILENCE  177 

Papal  Court,  and  among  others  on  the  notorious  Qsesar 
B^gisb,  the  murdered  man's  own  brother;  but  the 
police  completely  failed  in  discovering  the  actual 
perpetrator  of  the  deed,  although  the  investigations 
revealed  an  appalling  amount  of  base  jealousy  and 
treachery  in  the  highest  quarters.  The  consternation 
and  distress  in  the   Papal   palace  were   unexampled. 

TT-iP^PnpA    -y^rga    nvprwhplmp.d    with    griftf,    a    grief   that 

threatened  to  rend'  his  heart  in  sunder.  As  the 
Venetian  Ambassador  in  one  of  his  despatches  declared, 
"  The  wild  wail  of  the  bereaved  old  man  in  the  Castle 
of  St.  Angelo  was  heard  in  the  streets  around."  He 
shut  himself  up  in  his  room,  and  for  four  days  neither 
ate  nor  drank,  nor  had  a  moment's  sleep.  This  out- 
burst of  grief  was  followed  by  a  spasm  of  remorse. 
AJ.esander  took  the  blow  as  j^sitation  from  God  and 
a  warning  to  him  to  return  from  the  error  of  his  ways. 
He  made  good  resolutions,  and,  summoning  a  Con- 
sistory, he  professed  his  determination  to  enter  on  a 
real  .£ffort__aL improvement  both  in  his  own  life  and 
irL  thft  {Thnrp.h.  He  was  to  renounce  all  favouritism 
in  the  disposal  of  ecclesiastical  benefices;  he  was  to 
begin  the  reform  in  himself,  in  his  family,  and  his 
court,  and  so  proceed  through  all  the  ranks  of  the 
Church  till  the  whole  work  should  be  accomplished. 
And  as  a  practical  proof  of  the  sincerity  of  his  in- 
tentions, he  appointed  six  cardinals  on  the  spot  to 
f^inf^tHnt^  tVA  flonimisisi^^  th^^  sh^uVl  f^arry  th^rf^f^rm 
into  effect. 

When  this  startling  news  reached  Florence,  Savonarola 

took  up  his  pen  and  addressed  a  letter  of  condolence 

to  the   afflicted   and    penitent    Pontiff   under   whose 

terrible  anathema  he  now  lay.     He  probably  judged 

12 


178  SAVONAROLA 

that  a  time  when  the  old  man's  mind  would  be  open 
to  sacred  impressions,  and  in  conciliatory  but  earnest 
terms  he  urged  on  him  the  power  and  value  of  faith 
as  a  source  of  strength  in  adversity.  "  Blessed  is  he 
who  is  called  to  this  gift  of  faith,  without  which  no 
one  can  have  peace.  Let  your  Holiness  respond  to  this 
blessed  call,  so  that  soon  your  mourning  may  be  turned 
into  joy."  He,  the  writer,  was  himself  in  suffering 
for  the  sake  of  a  work  which  he  had  at  heart,  and 
he  pleaded  with  the  bereaved  father  to  help  forward 
that  work  and  not  give  ear  to  the  wicked;  then 
would  the  Lord  bestow  on  him  the  oil  of  gladness 
for  the  spirit  of  grief.  He  had  written,  he  protested, 
under  the  prompting  of  charity  and  in  all  humility, 
desiring  that  his  Holiness  might  find  comfort  in  God. 
^'-  May  He  console  you  in  your  tribulation." 

This  letter  was  taken  in  good  part,  and  tended  to 
further  the  exertions  which  the  authorities  of  Florence 
were  making  through  their  envoys  at  Rome  toj^duce 
the  Pope  to  withdraw  the  sentence  of  excommumoa-- 
tienT  SiSander,  indeed,  was  so  far  moved  by  the 
influences  brought  to  bear  upon  him,  that  h^  delega.ted 
thexQ.nsideration  of  Savonarola's  case  to  the  Commis- 
sioB-iif  JB^eform  which  he  had  just  recently  appointed. 
Petitions  and  counter-petitions  went  up  to  Rome  from 
Florence.  The  Arrabbiati,  on  their  side,  renewed  their 
old  accusations,  and  pressed  for  a  confirmation  of  the 
Papal  decree.  On  the  other  hand,  the  brethren  of  San 
Marco  pleaded  earnestly  for  its  removal,  and  enlarged 
on  the  purity  of  their  Prior's  doctrines  and  the  lofty 
saintliness  of  his  life;  while  one  influential  petition, 
signed  by  three  hundred  and  sixty-three  leading  citi- 
zens, whom  the  plague  had  not  yet  driven  away,  was 


SIX  MONTHS  OF  SILENCE  179 

equally  strong  in  its  testimony  in  Savonarola's  favour. 
The  new  Signory  also,  which  this  time  was  friendly, 
sent  a  letter  to  the  Pope,  laying  stress  on  the  eminent 
virtues  of  the  condemned  Friar,  the  wonderful  fruits 
of  his  moral  reformation,  and  the  holy  manner  in 
which  he  lived. 

Weeks  passed;  the  plague  gradually  abated;  fugi- 
tive citizens  returned  to  their  homes,  and  Florence 
i'§smned.._it^_usual  routine;  but  there  was  no  sign 
of  the  recall  of  the  excommunication.  Suddenly  in 
August  a  whirlwind  of  agitation  was  raised,  by  the 
disclQau£e--Q£_Mtherto  unknown  fagts  respecting  the 
attempted  surprise  of  the  city  by  PjfiiQ^de  Medici  a 
few"  months  before.  Through  the  arrest  of  an  out- 
lawed Medicean  partisan,  Lamberto  delF  Antfilja^  evi- 
denQe_£ama-ia_light  which  fasten^  the  blame  of  that 
plot  on  five  citizens  of  ^reat  social  distinction,  whose 
complicity  had  not  previously  been  suspected.  There 
were  NiccoliL-Bidalfi  and  Lorenzo  Tornaibuoni,  both 
related  to  the  Medici  family.  Then  there  were  Gia^ 
vannUIambi  and  Gionozzo  Pucci,  the  one  a  rich  mer- 
chant, and  the  other  a  youth  of  noble  birth  and  great 
talent.  But  the  most  striking  figure  of  all  was  the 
venerable  Bernardo  del  Nero,  a  man  of  high  character 
and  reputation,  and  now  seYoniy^ifi^e  years  of  age, 
who  had  beenJlaaf aloniere  at  the  time  when  the  move 
was  made  to  put  the  traitorous  scheme  into  execution. 
It  was  pleaded  on  his  behalf  that  his  only  offence  was 
that  he  had  known  of  the  conspiracy  and  had  not  dis- 
closed it.  On  the  other  hand,  it  was  argued  that  such 
conduct  in  the  chief  of  the  State  was  criminal  in  its 
turpitude. 

In  view  of  the  powerful  connections  of  the  accused, 


i8o  SAVONAROLA 

the  case  was  found  most  embarrassing  to  deal  with, 
and  the  various  bodies  of  officials  shifted  the  respon- 
sibility of  condemnation  from  one  to  another.  The 
Council  of  the  Eig^ht  threw  on  the  Signorvi_the_la8k 
qL  deciding;  the  Si^nory  referred  judgment  to  a 
mixed  assembly,  first  of  twenty,  then  of  aQa_hiliidred 
and  fV>irty-ST^  rAprptaAnfafi\7A  citizcus ;  and  in  the  last 
resort  the  Eight  wptp.  compelled  to  pronounce  the  vp,r- 
dick-  When  the  mixed  tribunal  of  twenty  passed  a 
sftntft]iPft  of  gnilty,  an  appeal  to  the  Greater  Council 
was  offered,  but  declined.  After  the  final  condemna- 
tion came,  however,  the  ri^ht  of  appeal,  wasLrasolutely 
claimed,  and  over  this  claim  there  was  fierce  and  pro- 
tracted debate  in  the  Signory,  giving  rise  to  dissensions 
and  tumults  highly  dangerous  to  the  welfare  and  safety 
of  the  city;  for  outside,  popular  ind igiiftti on  agai n st 
the  iimtorsjwas.  strong.  Four  of  the  Signory  were  in 
favour  of  the  appeal  being  granted,  five  against  it; 
and  it  seemed  as  if  a  clear  and  emphatic  decision  was 
hopeless,  till  Francesco  Valori,  with  his  impetuous 
energy,  stepped  forward  in'ibtirning  wrath  to  the  table, 
and,  seizing  the  ballot-box,  cried  out,  "  Let  justice  at 
once  be  done."  and  so  overpowered  the  dissentient 
members  by  his  denunciation  of  the  accused,  that  they 
gave  their  ^^'^tf^  f^r  t^^  QPTiff^nf^A  nf  death.  The  con- 
demned men  were  granted  but  little  time  to  prepare 
for  their  tragic  end.  An  attempt  by  their  friends  to 
evoke  compassion  for  them.,  by  bringing  them  out 
barefooted  and  in  their  chains  to  the  Council  hall, 
entirely  failed  in  its  purpose,  and  at  two  o'clock  in 
the  morning,  in  the  courtyard  of  the  Bargello,  they 
were  led  to  the  block  and  bowed  their  heads  to  the 
axe  of  the  executioner. 


SIX  MONTHS  OF  SILENCE  i8i 

To  all  these  incidents  and  the  commotion  created  by 
them  it  cannot  be  supposed  that  Savonarola  was 
indifferent.  His  feelings  with  regard  to  the  men 
charged  with  treason  must  have  been  distinctly  adverse 
as  the  evidence  of  their  guilt  became  revealed.  The 
free,  self-governing  Republic  was  dear  to  his  heart ;  of 
the  veiled  despotism  of  the  Medici  regime  he  had  an 
invincible  abhorrence,  and  he  dreaded  the  possibility  of 
itsuieatoration.  With  such  sentiments  so  deeply  rooted, 
it  was  not  to  be  expected  that  he  would  look  with 
aught  but  reprobation  on  those  conspirators  by  whose 
conduct  the  Republic  had  been  placed  in  jeopardy.  He 
has  been  censured  for  not  interposing  in  favour  of 
mercyj,_ajid_especrally  for  not  exertm^^his  influence  to 
proe^M^.fnr  the  unhappy  men  the  privilege  of  appeal  to 
the-Greater_Coiincil.     It  must  be  remembered,  however, 

that  the  nppp^,]    f,f>  fha   r[rpnfAr   nnnnn.il  was  a  iTiPfl.snre 

passed  contrary  to  his  personal  advice_and-jvvishes. 
George  Eliot  has  failed  to  give  due  weight  to  this 
consideration,  and  in  her  Romola  she  has  presented 
Savonarola's  conduct  in  the  matter  in  a  dubious  light, 
as  if  he  had  been  seriously  atjajiliLinjiotexerting_his 

pnwAT  fr>  KPpnrA  for  fb^  r>r>r>rlPTr>nprl  mpn  fViA  vpryjiaghf. 
olr^ppen.l  whip.h  ha.d  b^P^i,  estnblish^d— ihrongh  his 
instrumentality.  It  is  necessary  to  recall  the  fact  that 
liejmdjije^gr^v^cai^d  a  right  of  appeal  to  the  Greater 
Council.  The  appeal  whiclTTe~(TTd  advocate,  but  which, 
greatly  to  his  disappointment,  was  not  carried,  was  an 
appeal  to  a  more  1iir|itpd  and,  as  he  believed,  more 
intelligent  _ai)d  dpIibpTative  tribunal;  and  it  would 
therefore  have  been  against  his  better  judgment  to 
submit  a  case  involving  the  question  of  life  or  death  to 
the  larger  assembly,  where  the  heat  of  party  prejudice 


/  tl 


182  SAVONAROLA 

and  feeling  might  be  apt  to  sway  the  decision.  Besides, 
the  case  had  actually  been  tried  before  the  very  kind 
of  court  which  accorded  best  with  his  ideas,  when  it 
was  submitted  to  the  mixed  tribunal  of  one  hundred 
and  thirty- six  rcprespntative  citizens ;  and  conse- 
quently, in  his  view,  all  tliat)  justice  required Jiad, been 
done.  As  to  the  assertion  that  he  ought  to  have  put  in 
a  plea  for  mercy,  it  is  sufficient  answer  to  point  out  the 
circumstance  that  the  pnlpit  was  rlosp.rl  to  him  now, 
and  that  he  was  deb^red  from-any^uitable  opportunity 
of  moving  the  piiblic^mind,  while  the  influential  men 
among  his  followers,  like  Valori  and  others,  who  were 
taking  a  prominent  part  in  public  work,  were  too 
absorbingly  intent  on  combating  the  designs  of  oppos- 
ing factions,  and  safeguarding  what  they  deemed  the 
interests  of  free  government,  to  give  much  heed  to  any 
such  plea.  Savonarola  was  no  longer  the  supreme 
irector  of  the^cTEys  poTitical_businejis.__J[ie_was  still 
the_pDpulaiL  idol,  the  outstanding  figure  that  gave  to 
Florence  its  proud  and  far-extending  renown,  although 
the  Pope's  ban  and  the  Signory's  hesitating  attitude  on 
account  of  it  were  shaking  the  old  enthusiastic  con- 
fidence among  certain  sections  of  the  community.  But 
the^place  he  had_held  in  tha-p^hfins  of  JFjprpjip.ft  was 
now  filifid^by  men  more  directly  p.onnp.rnftd  with  polit- 
ical  life.  At  a  hazardous  emergency,  when  the  city 
was  menaced  with  anarcliyTirnd  there  was  no  public 
man  strong  and  wise  enough  to  take.jbhe  helm  and 
guide  the  State,  he,  by  his  masterly  gifts  and  cultured 
sagacity,  had  met  the  need  of  the  hour,  and  almost 
dictated  the  constitution  of  the  revived  Republic^TThe 
need  had-passed ;  the  constitution  framed  under  his 
advice  was  in  full  working  order ;  the  political  activity 


SIX  MONTHS  OF  SILENCE  183 

of  the  commonwealth  could  go  on  without  his  personal 
leadership  ;  and — weightiest  fact  of  all,  perhaps — the 
very  spirit  of  fmedom  which  he  had  kindled  and  called 
to  life  was  learnjng^jjx  act  on  its  own-impulse,  and 
growing  disposed  to  claim  its  own  independence  in  the 
administration  of  affairs.  Those,  therefore,  who  blame 
him  for  not  interfering  in  behalf  of  the  condemned 
conspirators  fail  to  make  due  allowance  for  all  the  facts 
of  the  situation  at  that  particular  crisis. 

One  result  of  the  blow  given  to  the  plotters  against 
the  Republic  was  the  return  to  supremacr^joL^Savon- 
arola/s_ friends,  the  Piagnoni.  The  various  Signories 
elected  during  the  remainder  of  this  year  1497  were 
all  distinctly  on  his  side.  They  put  forth  every  effort 
to  obtain  the  revocation  of  the  Papal  censure.  It  was 
felt  to  be  a  loss  to  the  city,  that  the  mighty  voice  which 
had  stirred  men  to  higher  aims  and  touched  the  finer 
chords  of  their  nature  by  its  eloquent  calls  to  faith 
and  godliness,  should  be  doomed  so  long  to  silence.  It 
was  felt  also  that  the  friction  with  Rome  into  which 
Florence  was  drawn  by  reason  of  the  excommunication 
was  detrimental  to  its  peace  and  general  prosperity. 
While  the  negotiations  of  the  Signory  were  proceeding, 
an  offer  was  made  to  Savonarola  himself  which  showed 


that  theJIoly^FatheF'was  disposed  to  yield.  He  was 
given  to  tmderstand,  through  the  Cardinal  of  Siena, 
that  on  pa.yment^  Jive  thousand  crowns  to  a  certain 
creditor  of  the  1fl,ttf^r"^?T?gnTtg,fy7~TFft"  hn.n  .wAw^f}  be 
reniDveS!  Thls~was  an  indirect  assurance  that  full 
absolution  might  be  purchased,  but  Savonarola  rejected 
the^roposalrbelTeving,  as  he  said,  in  writing  to  a  friend, 
that  he  would  be  far  more  deeply  banned  were  he  to 
accept  absolution  at  such  a  price. 


f- 


184  SAVONAROLA 

As  the  period  of  silence  lengthened  out,  the  evidences 
of  Savonarola's  liter£ti*y  activity  began  to  appear. 
Several  pamphlets  and  tractates  issued  from  his  pen — 
j  The  Lawyentation  of  .the_BTi(hof_^^^ 
"^  Step»~jQ^LM,3^piTiiuaLMiJ^_^^  BonaventurcL^  On 
the  Exercise  of  Charity,  and  jh^^fin^ly^iiwritten  Epistle 
to^^^^ters  of  the  'Third  Order_of  St.  Dominic.  It  was 
ithenalso'^  that  Tie  published  the  elaborate  theological 
treatise  which  for  many  months  had  engaged  his  time 
and  thought,  The^J!xjdimipli.^af--4h^~~Cross.  It  is  in 
this  work  that  we  find  the  most  convincing  proofs  of 
Savonarola's  learning  and  intellectual  power.  It  brings 
into  view  his  clear  and  easy  command  of  the  scholastic, 
and  also  of  the  most  advanced  philosophic,  knowledge 
of  his_age.  Its  style,  which  presents  a  marked  con- 
trast to  that  of  his  sermons,  is  calm,  carefully  logical, 
dispassionate.  The  d^sign^fjhejgiook  is.  to_establish  on 
strictly  rational  grounds  the  Divine  origin  and  jtruth  of 
Clmstiajaity^as^  religion  whose  doctrines,  though  above 
the  power  of  reason  to  discover,  are  yet  in  perfect 
harijnouy  with,  rpason  wh^n  jftyftfllpd.  It  is  here  that 
we  find  its  originality.  The  method  adopted  is  a 
decid£d_.d£parture  from  the  form  of  argument  usually 
followed  up  to  that  day,  and~ls  more  in  keeping  with 
the  denmnds_of  themodern  spirit.  "  In  this  book,"  it 
is  said  in  the  Introduction,  "  we  wish  to  proceed  only 
by  reasonings ;  we  shall  invoke  no  authority,  but  act 
as  if  it  were  only  necessary  to  believe  our  own  reason 
and  experience ;  for  all  men  are  compelled,  under  pain 
of  folly,  to  pnnsi^nf.  fp  natural  reason."  On  the  lines 
thus  laid  down  Savonarola  proceeds  to  discourse  in 
the  first  book  on  the  existence  and  attributes  of  God ; 
in   the   second,  on   the  truth   and   excellence   of  the 


SIX  MONTHS  OF  SILENCE  185 

Christian  religjoii;,  in  the  third,  on  the  particular 
Christian  doctrines  and  the  principles  of  Ciiristian 
morality  and  the  sacrainent^ ;  in  the  fonrth  and  last, 
on  the  superiority  of  Christianity  to  all  other  forms 
of  faith;  and  here  he  most  distinctly  expresses  the 
opinion,  which  ought  to  have  been  sufficient  to  clear 
awa^yi  alL_suspi£ion_jof_Jieresy,  that  the  chair  of  St. 
Peter  is  the  centre  of  the  Roman  Church,  and  that 
whoever  departs  from  the  unity  and  doctrines  of  the 
Roman  Church  unquestionably  departs  from  Christ. 
The  whole  argument  of  the  work  is  summed  up  in  ^ 
these  eloquent  words :  "  If  we  consider  the  power  that 
Jesus  Christ  has  employed  to  surmount  so  many  gods, 
emperors,  kings,  tyrants,  philosophers,  and  heretics ; 
to  subjugate  without  arms,  without  riches,  without 
help  of  human  wisdom,  so  many  barbarous  nations; 
if  we  represent  to  ourselves  the  faith,  constancy,  and 
firmness  of  so  many  saints  martyred  for  the  Christian 
faith ;  the  admirable  wisdom  used  by  Jesus  Christ  to 
illuminate  in  so  short  a  time  the  whole  world  with 
the  splendours  of  truth,  and  to  purify  it  from  the 
pollution  of  so  many  crimes  and  errors ;  if  we  add  to 
all  this,  the  consideration  of  His  immense  kindness, 
by  means  of  which  He  has  attracted  to  His  love  an 
infinite  number  of  men,  who,  not  content  with  despising 
perishable  things,  have  wished  to  suffer  death  rather 
than  yield  a  single  iota  of  their  faith — we  shall  be 
compeUed  to  conf  essjthedivinity  of  Christianity.  What 
man,  what  god,  other  than  Jesus  Christ,  has  ever 
accomplished  anything  like  it  ?  .  .  .  The  philosophers 
did  not  sufficiently  comprehend  the  true  end  of  life ; 
the  astrologers  lost  themselves  in  the  midst  of  a 
thousand  superstitions ;  the  idolaters  had  no  truth  nor 


,/A 


SAVONAROLA 


'     *     modesty ;    the    Jews    are   confounded    by  their    own 


-z 


prophets,  and  by  the  captivity  to  which  they  are  now 
^  reduced  ;  the  heretics  bear  in  their  many  divisions  the 
proof  of  their  errors ;  Mahometanism  falls  before  the 
attack  of  a  simple  philosophy ;  Christianity  alone 
remains,  confirmed  and  ratified  by  the  double  power 
and  double  light  of  nature  and  grace — by  the  holy  life 
of  Christians — by  wisdom,  works,  and  miracles,  which 
nourish  the  mind  :  therefore  it  is  Divine.  ...  If,  then, 
we^have  not  lost  all  our  understanding,  we  must  believe 
that  the  faith  of  Jesus  Christ  is  the  true  faith ;  that 
there  is  another  life  where  we  shall  appear  in  person 
before  the  tribunal  of  that  formidable  Judge,  who  will 
place  the  wicked  on  His  left  hand,  in  torments,  like 
impure  goats,  and  the  good  on  His  right  hand,  in 
felicity,  like  sacred  sheep,  and  will  give  them  the 
privilege  of  seeing  God  face  to  face — God  Ttiune  and 
One,  immense,  ineffable — in  whom  the  saints  will 
eternally  possess  all  blessedness,  by  the  grace  of  the 
invincible  and  triumphant  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus 
Christ,  to  whom  be  honour,  power,  empire,  and  glory, 
through  ages  of  ages.     Amen.  " 


CHAPTER  XX 

The    Pope   Defied 

In  vain  the  Signory  interceded  and  Savonarola  waited ; 
Alexandervi.  gave  no  indication  of  cancelling  the  ex- 
communicatory  Brief.  His  spasm  of  compunction  had 
subsided.  He  did  not  possess  the  moral  strength  to 
abandon  his  licentious  habits.  His  penitential  resolves, 
adopted  in  a  moment  of  anguish  and  sorrow,  had 
passed  away  and  were  forgotten,  and  he  was  once 
more  following  jiis  old  course  of  arrogant  grasping, 
self-indufgencfe,  and  wily  intrigue.  He  could:  no  longer 
accuse  Savonarola  of  schisnToiTheresy.  The  Triumph 
gf_Jka-Opoes,  with  its  powerful  defence  of  theunrEy 
and  the  doctrines  of  the  Church,  removed  all  ground 
for  such  a  charge.  The  Commission  of  Cardinals  also, 
to  whom  his  case  had  been  referred,  had  pronounced 

the    book    nTn'mpp.n.phablp^    it^    its  orthodoxy.       Yet   the 

very  presence  of  the  strong-minded  Friar  in  Florence 
was  a  danger  to  the  policy  on  which  Alexander  was 
bent.  He  made  overtures  to  the  Signory  to  have 
Savonarola  sent  to  Rome,  but  as  they  could  not  see 
their  way  to  comply  with  the  proposal,  he  stiffened 
himself  into  an  attitude  of  relentless  displeasure. 

The  magistrates  felt  their  strained   relations  with 
the  Pope  severely  trying.     There  was  a  large  amount 

187 


1 88  SAVONAROLA 

of  uneasiness  and  apprehension,  for  the  neighbouring 
Italian  powers  were  waiting  for  their  opportunity  to 
take  Florence  at  a  disadvantage,  and  those  responsible 
for  the  public  safety  were  in  anxious  dread  of  the 
political  complications  which  might  at  any  moment 
arise.  Moreover,  the  devout  among  the  inhabitants, 
deprived  of  the  inspiring  ministrations  of  their 
favourite  preacher,  were  depressed  and  dissatisfied. 
The^  moral  condition  of  the  city  was  going  from  bad 
to  worse!  Since  the  withdrawal  of  Savonarola's  re- 
straining  influence,  the  increase  of  vice  and  reckless- 
ness had  become  glaring,  and  as  the  later  months  of 
1497  wore  on,  the  situation  grew  more  intolerable. 

At  last,  on  Christmas  Day,  Savonarola  took  a  bold 
and  decisive  step.  He  three  times  publicly  adminis- 
tered the  Mass  at  San  Marco,  and  led  a  solemn  pro- 
cession through  the  cloisters.  The  magistrates  soon 
displayed  their  sympathy  with  him  in  this  act  of 
defiance,  by  going  on  the  feast  of  the  Epiphany  to 
present  oflferings  in  San  Marco  Church,  and  by  kissing 
the  hand  of  Savonarola  as  he  stood  at  the  high  altar. 
Ere  many  weeks  elapsed,  arrangements  were  made, 
with  the  full  approval  of  the  Signory,  for  his  reap- 
pearance in  the  pulpit  of  the  Duomo,  and  to  provide 
for  the  crowds  expected  the  wooden  galleries  were  put 
up  once  more.  The  Archbishop's  vicar  attempted  to 
prevent  his  preaching,  by  issuing  a  mandate  forbidding 
all  from  attending,  on  the  pain  of  sharing  in  the  sen- 
tence of  excommunication,  and  of  being  cut  off*  from 
the  sacraments  and  Christian  burial ;  but  the  Signory 
made  short  work  of  this  proclamation,  and  threatened 
to  declare  the  vicar  a  rebel  unless  it  was  at  once  with- 
drawn. 


THE  POPE  DEFIED  189 

Accordingly,  on   Septuagesima   Sunday^  11th  HPefe — 
rnt^gy   1 4.Q8,^  Savonarola   stood   up   in   the   old   place, 
which  had  been  to  him  as  a  veritable  throne,  and  from 
which,  by  the  power  of  his  genius,  eloquence,  and  per- 
sonal character,  he  had  so  often  swn^red  Ihejjves  and 

fnrtnnfis   of   the   Flnrp.nf.inp.    ponplft       There,  under  the 

aegis  of  the  secular,  and  in  defiance  of  the  ecclesiastical, 
power,  he  addressed  an  overflowing  and  anxiously 
expectant  congregation,  while  the  more  virulent  of  his 
opponents  vented  their  spite  in  noisy  demonstrations 
on  the  piazza  outside  the  building.  As  was  to  be  anti- 
cipated, his  discourse  dealt  largely  with  the  decree  of 
excommunication  and  the  line  of  action  respecting  it 
which  he  had  been  constrained  to  pursue.  In  burning 
words  he  ^^f prided  hi»  HianbprliAnpp  "The  righteous 
prince  or  the  good  priest,"  he  said,  "  is  merely  an  in- 
strument in  the  Lord's  hands  for  the  government  of 
the  people.  [But  when  the  higher  agency  is  with- 
drawn from  the  prince  or  priegt,  he  is  no  longer  an 
instrument,  but  a  broken  tool."^  Should  the  laws  and 
commands  issued  be  contrary  to  that  which  is  the  root 
and  principle  of  all  wisdom,  namely,  of  godly  living 
and  charity,  that  was  a  proof  that  the  higher  agency 
was  absent,  and  there  was  then  in  no  wise  an  obliga- 
tion to  obey.  This,  he  contended,  was  palpabTythe 
case  with  the  sentence  of  excommunication,  for  no 
sooner  was  it  published  than  the  door  was  opened  to 
every  vice,  there  was  a  return  to  crime  and  profligacy, 
righteous  living  was  struck  down.  "  Therefore  on  him 
that  giveth  commands  opposed  to  charity,  which  is  the 
fulfilling  of  the  law,  anathema  sit  Were  such  a  com- 
mand pronounced  by  an  angel,  even  by  the  Virgin 
Mary  herself,  and  all  the  saints  (which  is  certainly  im- 


190  SAVONAROLA 

possible),  anathema  sit  And  if  any  Pope  hath  ever 
spoken  to  a  contrary  effect  from  this,  let  him  be  de»- 
clared  excommunicate.  I  say  not  •  that  such  Pope  hath 
ever  existed ;  but  if  he  hath  existed  he  can  have  been 
no  instrument  of  the  Lord,  but  a  broken  tool. "  It  is 
feared  by  some  that,  although  this  excommunication 
be  powerless  in  heaven,  it  may  have  power  in  the 
Church.  For  me  it  is  enough  not  to  be  interdicted  by 
Christ.  0  my  Lord,  if  I  should  seek  to  be  absolved 
from  this  excommunication,  let  me  be  sent  to  hell ;  I 
should  shrink  from  seeking  absolution  as  from  mortal 
sin." 

Ere  closing  his  sermon  on  that  memorable  day,  he 
uttered  some  significant  hints,  which  were  greedily 
seized  and  kept  in  mind,  as  to  the  supernatural  attest- 
ation which  he  believed  his  mission  and  claims  would 
no  doubt  receive.  "  As  yet,"  he  said,  "  no  miracle  hath 
been  forced  from  me ;  but  when  the  time  cometh  the 
Lord  will  stretch  forth  His  hand."  On  the  two  Sun- 
days following  he  returned  to  the  charge,  and  laboured 
to  prove  that  a  Pope  may  errjii  his  judgments  and 
sejjtenQes;  that  as  his  own  doctrine  was  the  doctrine 
of  godly  living,  therefore  it  proceeded  from  God,  whilst 
the  excommunication  was  hostile  to  godly  living,  and 
therefore  proceeded  from  the  devil. 

Thus  the  gauntlet  was  thrown  down.  Savonarola 
'7'sdeclaredhimself  at  war  wdth  the  Pope.  He  had  waited 
for  months  in  the  hope  that  Alexander  would  relent, 
and  that  the  scandal  of  an  open  rupture  with  the  Holy 
See  might  be  avoided.  Now  that  Alexander  had  shown 
himself  implacable,  he  defied  him.  It  was  not,  he 
pleaded,  the  defiance  of  mere  insubordination.  He  did 
not  rebel  against  ecclesiastical  authority  as  such,  but 


THE  POPE  DEFIED  191 

only  against  the  unworthy  exercise  of  ecclesiastical 
authority  by  a  notoriously  unspiritual  man,  a  man 
who,  by  the  admission  of  all  parties,  had  bought  his 
official  position  by  bribery,  and  had  ever  since  dis- 
graced it  by  the  shameless  immorality  of  his  life. 
When  such  a  man  issued  decrees  based  on  false  re- 
ports and  calculated  to  promote  ungodliness  and  the 
ruin  of  souls,  as  AlexandeLr  had  done,  he  coyld-jiot-Jbe 
the  true_^epresentative  of  the  Divine  will.  Nominal 
head  of  the  Church  though  he  was,  it  would  in  that 
case  be  mockery  to  suppose  that  he  was  speaking  in 
the  name  of  God. 

Such  was  the  ground  on  which  Savonarola  took  his 
stand,  although  in  his  endeavour  to  vindicate  it  he  was 
diverted  again  and  again  into  distracting  side  issues 
and  ingenious  logical  subtleties  which  impaired  the 
force  of  his  reasoning.  His  fundamental  point  clearly 
was — th(^  jrighf.  (7f  ihp  morfll^sgrisp.  to  ,GlmUA?^gfv  even 
lawfully  constituted  authority  wheiMihe  requirements 
^of  thaj_jjj.thori^  contrav^no  the  plain  dictates  of  jus- 
licfi^  That  right  cannot  be  argued  against.  The  Koman 
CatliQliiLChurch  does  not  argue  against  it.  She  simply 
denies,  it.  She  flatly  says  that  nonsuch  right  exists, 
that  the  moral  sense  has  no  title  to  judge  for  itself  in 
matters  of  religious  duty,  but  must  bowjmplicitly  and 

without  question  to  ^->'<^_£2-^Tnma.nrls  1f^,id  u^r>r>  it  by  the 
Church's  official  Siipf^rior.  And  even  although  that 
Superior  be  a  man  of  corrupt  morals  and  his  decrees 
unjust,  such  a  consideration  cannot  be  accepted  as  an 
excuse  for  withholding  obedience.  As  Dr.  Pastor 
tersely  puts  it  from  the  Roman  Catholic  point  of  view, 
"  According  to  the  teaching  of  the  Church,  an  evil  life 
cannot  deprive  the   Pope  or  any  other  ecclesiastical 


192  SAVONAROLA 

authority  of  his  lawful  jurisdiction ; "  and  again, 
"Savonarola  was  bound  to  obey  the  Holy  See,  how- 
ever it  might  be  desecrated  by  such  an  occupant  as 
Alexander  vi." 

/"Savonarola  represents  the  revolt  of  the  deepest 
moral  instincts  against  such  absolute  subjection.  His 
mind  rebelled  against  the  idea  so  emphatically  main- 
tained by  ecclesiastics,  that  in  the  exercise  of  authority 
in  the  Church  the  moral  quality  of  the  official  was  a 
matter  of  indifference.  He  felt  the  impulse  istrong 
within  him  to  assert  the  freedom  of  his  own  con- 
science>-^  Freedom  of  conscience,  however,  was  still  to 
him  only  a  profound  and  irrepressible  sentiment ;  he 
had  not  grasped  it,  and  apparently  never  did  quite 
grasp  it,  as  a  clearly  defined  principle  to  which  he  could 
give  articulate  expression.  Had  he  done  so,  he  would 
most  probably  have  hastened  the  revolution  in  reli- 
gious thought  and  life  which  afterwards  more  slowly 
came  to  pass.  Nevertheless,  it  was  really  the  freedom 
of  the  conscience  which  was  his  underlying,  impellino^ 
j^  idea.  He  stood  for  the  soul's  indefeasible  prerogative 
"oFlesting  by  the  light  received  from  God  the  good  or 
h'^i^^J^f\^rhQX^^,  the  justice  or  injustice,  of  the  rules  of 
action  which  are  imposed  upon  its  will.  He  was  mis- 
guided, let  it  be  confessed,  extravagant,  fanatical  even, 
in  some  of  the  methods  and  arguments  he  employed, 
yet  he  strove  to  maintain  a  resolute  protest  on  behalf 
of  the  essential  dignity  of  conscience,  and  of  its  war- 
rant to  resist  being  crushed  by  the  pressure  of  mere 
ecclesiastical  officialism,  when  basely  or  wrongfully 
inspired ;  and  by  doing  so  he  gave  a  decided  stimulus 
to  the  progress  of  religion.  For,  indeed,  it  is  by  such 
resistance  as  he  opposed  to  the  unworthy  exercise  of 


THE  POPE  DEFIED  193 

authority  in  the  Church  that  the  true  authority  is  up- 
held. Implicit  obedience  to  the  unjust  demands  of 
authority  ma;y_be  insisted  on  for  thp.  saTrp.  nOTH^iplinp 
and  to  save  scandal,  but  were  obedienGfi__to  unjust 
demands  to  be  generally  rendered  on  such  grounds, 
injustice  would  grow  more  rampant  and  tyrannical 
still  through  its  very  success,  as  the  history  of  the 
world  repeatedly  shows.  In  fact,  it  is  one  of  the  most 
unmistakable  lessons  of  history,  that  those  are  the  best 
friends  of  the  Church  who,  by  reason  of  their  very 
loyalty  to  its  spiritual  interests,  set  themselves  cour- 
ageously against  all  patent  wrong-doing  or  corruption 
in  the  men  who  guide  the  Church's  policy  or  wield 
control  over  its  affairs. 

The  crowd  of  citizens  listened  with  liveliest  interest 
to  those  sermons  of  February  1498,  in  which  their 
excommunicated  Fra  Girolamo  sought  to  demonstrate 
the  invalidity  of  the  ?apal  decra^  yet  the  anxiety  and 
hesitation  felt  by  many  among  them  as  to  the  position 
he  thus  assumed  could  not  be  concealed.  They  admired 
and  trusted  the  man  for  his  pure  and  blameless  life ; 
they  honoured  him  highly  for  his  gifts  as  a  preacher, 
and  for  the  good  work  he  had  done  on  behalf  of 
religion  and  the  public  weal.  Still,  his  defiance  of  the 
Holy  See  struck  them  with  a  feeling  of  pained  un- 
easiness. That  sense  of  the  ghostly  prestige  of  Papal 
authority  in  which  they  had  been  reared,  and  unde^^ 
which  they  had  always  lived^  haunted  and  over- 
shadowed their  minds.  It  was  impossible  to  escape 
from  its  spell.  They  were  awed  by  the  very  thought 
of  a  man  being  banned  by  that  august  and  mysterious 
power  which  ruled  Christendom  from  Rome,  and  when 
they  saw  their  own  familiar  Friar  treating  the  solemn 
13 


194  SAVONAROLA 

ban  when  pronounced  against  himself  with  cool  and 
lofty  disdain,  they  were  smitten  with  something  akin  to 
dismay,  as  if  startled  by  an  act  of  sacrilegious  audacity. 
There  can  be  little  doubt  that  the  impression  thus 
produced  tended  to  the  withdrawal  from  Savonarola 
of  much  of  the  confidence  and  sj^mpathy  which  hitherto 
he  had  so  freely  received.  Men  especially  of  a  cautious 
temper  dropped  aside  from  the  ranks  of  his  supporters. 

Evidently  he  was  himself  conscious  of  this  impression, 
and  the  perception  of  it  beguiled  him  into  one  of  those 
lapses  into  fanaticism  which  marred  the  lofty  simplicity 
of  his  life.  In  closing  his  third  sermon  in  the  Duomo, 
he  announced  his  intention  of  making  a  daring 
challenge  to  prove  the  truth  and  sincerity  of  the 
course  he  had  taken.  On  the  last  day  of  the  Carnival 
he  would  say  Mass  in  his  convent  church,  and  after- 
wards come  out  to  the  piazza  with  the  Sacrament  to 
give  a  solemn  benediction.  Then,  he  told  his  audience, 
they  were  to  offer  a  special  appeal  to  the  Most  High. 
"  When  I  shall  take  the  Sacrament  in  my  hands,  let 
every  one  earnestly  pray  that  if  this  work  proceeds  not 
from  the  Lord,  He  may  send  upon  me  fire  from  heaven 
which  shall  then  and  there  draw  me  down  to  hell." 

It  was  only  natural  that  such  a  challenge,  answering 
as  it  did  to  the  expectation  of  a  miraculous  proof  of 
his  mission  which  his  broad  hint  a  fortnight  before 
had  awakened,  should  attract  an  enormous  concourse 
of  the  citizens.  On  the  crowning  day  of  the  Carnival 
the  wide  Piazza  of  San  Marco  was  densely  thronged. 
All  eyes  were  riveted,  with  wondering  concern  or 
impatient  curiosity,  on  the  temporary  wooden  pulpit 
raised  outside  the  door  of  the  convent  church.  Close 
round    the   pulpit    were    ranged    the    black-mantled 


THE  POPE  DEFIED  195 

monks,  chaunting  their  holy  psahns,  till  Savonarola 
himself  appeared,  and  knelt  over  the  desk  in  silent 
prayer.  Then,  standing  up,  he  addressed  the  solemnised 
and  motionless  throng,  and  called  upon  them  to  join  in 
the  prayer  which  he  had  asked  them  to  offer  to  the 
Almighty.  After  a  brief  pause,  he  raised  the  conse- 
crated Host,  blessed  the  multitude  as  they  bent  low  at 
the  sign,  and  then  uttered  the  astounding  appeal,  "  0 
Lord,  if  my  deeds  be  not  sincere,  if  my  words  come  not 
from  Thee,  strike  me  in  this  moment  w^ith  Thy  thunder." 
The  mass  of  spectators  waited  and  gazed  with  absorbed 
expectancy,  but  no  bolt  fell  from  the  sky,  no  thunder 
boomed — Bnt  what  was  manifest  to  all  was  thg  look 
of  rapt  enstasy  and  r^Hiflnl.  popfidfinpft  in  thft  dark- 
robfid  Friar's  face.  To  his  devoted  disciples  that  was 
as  a  gleam  of  light  from  heaven,  betokening  the 
Divineapprnval  of  their  ^maste^-^and  his  work ;  and 
while  their  murmurs  of  pleased  satisfaction  rose  and 
broke  the  stillness  which  had  hitherto  prevailed,  he 
stepped  down  from  the  pulpit  and  retired  into  the 
church.  That  strange  scene  in  front  of  San  Marco  was 
followed  in  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day  by  a  second 
Burning  of  the  Vanities  in  the  Piazza  della  Signoria. 
It  was  a  repetition  of  the  bonfire  of  the  previous  year, 
only  with  a  taller  pyramid,  a  larger  and  more  valuable 
collection  of  doomed  articles,  and  a  more  imposing 
procession,  subjected,  however,  to  insulting  annoyance 
by  the  enraged  and  envious  Compagnacci.  When  all 
were  gathered  round,  the  pile  was  duly  fired,  amid  an 
outburst  of  chaunts  and  lauds,  the  blare  of  trumpets, 
and  the  clanging  of  bells;  and  as  the  flames  mounted 
and  roared  in  their  work  of  destruction,  the  Te  Deuvi 
was  sung.     Then  there  was  another  procession,  first  to 


/ 


196  SAVONAROLA 

the  front  of  the  Duomo,  to  hand  over  the  money 
collected  to  the  Good  Men  of  San  Martino,  and  from 
there  on  to  the  Piazza  of  San  Marco,  where  monks, 
clerics,  and  laymen  joined  hands  in  three  separate 
rings,  and  to  the  music  of  hymns  danced  round  a 
crucifix.  So  ended  Savonarola's  last  Carnival,  the  last 
also  of  what  may  be  reckoned  the  outward  triumphs 
of  his  life. 

For  immediate  popular  effect,  such  demonstrations 
as  those  which  characterised  that  Carnival  day  of 
1498  may  have  been  a  success  ;  yet  for  the  strengthen- 
ing of  real  power  they  were  worse  than  useless.  If 
Savonarola's  challenge  of  the  supernatural  tokgji  was 
really  a  graspHbo  recover  a  waning  sovereignty,  the 
issue  ere  long  showed  it  to  be  a  dire  mistake.  Not  a 
fewsober^ninded  j3itizens,  who  cordially  appreciated 
his  public  spirit  and  religious  aims,  were  perplexed 
and  staggered  hy^  what  seemed  to  them  the  dangerous 
fanaticism  of  the  morningTicene  enacted  in  front  of 
San  Marco.  They__weia_JLfraid,  moreover,  of  the 
troublesome  extremes  to  which  the  onslaught  the 
Friar  was  instigating  upon  the  "  Vanities  "  might  yet 
be  carried.  And  so > they  quietly  afa^-ainprl  }iPnf>pfnrt.Vi 
from  showing  themselves  on  his  side. 

Soon  the  shadows  darkened  over  that  strong  and 
daring  spirit,  and  severely  testing  complications  of 
circumstance  gathered  round  him  at  a  time  when  the 
balance  of  his  disciplined  practical  sobriety  was  begin- 
ning to  give  way.  The  course  he  was  following  in 
<^r^^^}^^^^y^'^gLJ^^^  sentence  of  excommunication  was 
bringing  on  Florence  an  embarrassment_jiot  likely  to 
be  long  or  w^illingly  enduredT  While  the  Carnival 
celebrations  were  going  on,  the  Pope  was  threatening 


THE  POPE  DEFIED  197 

to  lay  the  city  under  an  Interdict  should  it  continue 
to  countenance  the  Friar  in  his  rebellious  obstinacy. 
That  was  a  prospect  which  could  only  be  contemplated 
with  a  feeling  of  dread  ;  for  the  effect  of  the  Interdict 
would  inevitably  be  that  Florence  would  be  isolated, 
commercial  intercourse  with  it  on  the  part  of  other 
States^'would  be  forbidden  on  the  pain  of  excom- 
munication, the  property  of  Florentine  merchants 
in  other  cities  would  be  confiscated,  and  there 
would  be  a  general  crippling  of  Florentine  prosperity. 
Thus  for  Savonarola  the  situation  was  increasing  in 
perplexity. 

The  sermons  preached  in  the  Cathedral  against  the 
validity  of  the  excommunication  had  been  printed  one 
by  one  as  soon  as  delivered,  and  circulated  all  over 
Italy  and  even  in  the  lands  of  the  north.  In  Rome 
they  were  read  with  blazing  wrath,  the  flame  of  which 
the  vindictive  Fra  Mariano  da  Gennazzano  did  his  best 
to  fan  with  his  furious,  coarsely-worded  harangues. 
It  was  in  vain  that  the  Florentine  ambassadors,  Bracci 
and  Bonsi,  exercised  their  diplomatic  skill  in  pleading 
the  saintly  character  and  useful  life  of  the  Fra  Giro- 
lamo  and  the  good  intentions  of  the  Signory.  Alex- 
ander VI.  would  not  be  pacified.  He  despatched  a 
Brief  to  the  Signory  conveying  a  clear  threat  of  the 
Interdict  unless  the  recalcitrant  Friar — "  the  son  of 
perdition,"  as  it  styled  him — were  sent  at  once  to 
Rome,  or  at  least  put  under  guard  and  effectually 
silenced.  This  was  accompanied  by  another  Brief  to 
the  Canons  of  the  Duomo,  ordering  them  to  prevent 
him  from  preaching  in  their  church.  Just  about  the 
time  when  those  Briefs  arrived,  but  before  it  was 
possible  to  consider  the  action  to  be  taken  respecting 


198  SAVONAROLA 

them,  Savonarola  once  more_preached  in  the  Cathedral. 
It  was_JiTs~Tast  appearancethere.  He  knew  of  the 
Briefs  and  their  terms,  and  frankly  spoke  of  them  in 
his  sermon.  "  They  call  me,"  he  said,  "  the  son  of 
perdition.  Let  this  be  sent  back  for  answer  :  '  The  man 
whom  you  thus  designate  has  neither  harlots  nor  con- 
cubines, but  gives  himself  up  to  preaching  the  faith  of 
Christ.  His  spiritual  children,  those  who  listen  to  his 
doctrine,  do  not  pass  their  time  in  the  commission  of 
crime ;  they  live  virtuously.  This  friar  labours  to 
exalt  the  Church,  and  you  to  destroy  it.'"  He  was 
not  to  be  daunted  by  the  menaces  of  those  who  were 
responsible  for  the  Church's  corruption.  "  I  will 
thunder  in  their  ears,"  he  declared,  "after  such  a 
fashion  that  they  will  hear  indeed.  The  time  draws 
near  to  open  the  casket,  and  if  we  but  turn  the  key 
there  will  come  forth  such  a  stench  from  the  Roman 
sink  that  it  will  spread  through  all  Christendom,  and 
every  one  will  perceive  it." 

This  reference  to  the  turning  of  the  key  was  the 
first  express  hint  he  had  ever  given  in  public  of  the 
scheme  which  he  had  long  been  meditating,  for  calling 
a  General  Council  with  the  object  of  investigating 
the  title  of  Alexander  VL  to  ho^'^  the  T^ap^l  chair, 
and  of  taking  steps  towards  the  reformation  of  the 
Church. 

Bold  and  determined,  however,  as  he  still  was,  he 
judged  it  prudent  to  withdraw  from  the  Cathedral 
pulpit  and  continue  his  sermons  for  the  Lent  season, 
which  had  now  begun,  in  his  own  church  of  San 
Marco.  His  reason  for  this  step  was  the  fact  that  now 
it  was  not  only  his  own  personal  position  that  was  in 
question,  but  also  the  public  interests  of  the  city  ;  and, 


THE  POPE  DEFIED  199 

realising  this,  he  decided  to  leave  the  newly-elected 
Signory,  just  entering  on  office,  to  deal  with  the 
message  from  Rome  as  far  as  possible  unhampered  by 
any  action  on  his  part  which  might  aggravate  the 
emergency. 


/ 


CHAPTER   XXI 

Gathering   Troubles 

As  it  turned  out,  the  majority  of  the  nfi,w_Signory 
on  whom  fell  the  duty  of  answering  the  Pope's  com- 
mand to  compel  Savonarola  into  submission  belonged 
to  the  Arrabbiati  faction.  They  shrank,  however, 
from  the  odium  of  taking  the  line  of  action  which 
their  own  party  bias  prompted,  and  called  in  the  aid 
of  the  other  official  bodies  in  the  State  to  share  the 
responsibility  of  decision.  A  Pratica  or  conference 
was  held,  and  the  subject  discussed,  with  the  result 
t"ter^  resolution  was  passed  against  adopting  so 
summarya  course  as  that  on  which  the  Pope-insisted, 
^j^gainst  their  will,  therefore,  the  Signory  were  obliged 
to  send  to  Alexander  a  letter  which,  in  language  at 
least,  was  distinctly  in  favour  of_Savonarola.  They 
extolled  his  virtues  and  the  good  effect  of  his  teach- 
ing, expressed  their  inability  to  face  the  popular 
disturbance  sure  to  be  aroused  by  any  forcible 
attempt  to  suppress  him,  and  begged  his  Holiness 
not  to  withhold  his  friendly  regard  and  services  from 
their  city. 

Meanwhile,  Savonarola  went  on  with  his  Lent 
sermons  at  San  Marco,  with  the  Book  of  Exodus  as  his 
theme.     The  church  being  too  inconveniently  crowded. 

200 


GATHERING  TROUBLES  201 

he  was  under  the  necessity  of  restricting  the  attend- 
ance on  week-days  to  men  only,  with  the  exception 
of  Saturday,  which  he  set  apart  specially  for  women, 
who  desired  not  to  be  altogether  excluded  from  his 
ministrations.  In  those  sermons,  while  enlarging  often 
with  great  beauty,  insight,  and  power  on  the  beliefs 
and  experiences  of  the  spiritual  life,  he  was  drawn 
occasionally  into  arguments  in  his  own  defence,  justi- 
fying his  attitude  towards  the  Pope,  and  maintaining 
the  reality  of  his  prophetic  mission,  as  witnessed  by 
the  occurrence  of  events  which,  as  all  knew,  he  had 
been  enabled  to  predict.  It  is  pathetic  to  think  of  that 
strong  voice,  which  was  wont  to  speak  out  with  the 
ring  of  full  and  masterly  independence  on  the  vital 
questions  of  faith  and  practical  duty,  reduced  now  so 
frequently  to  the  apglogetic,  or  even  disputatious,  tone 
of  self-vindication. 

But  the  development  of  the  drama  was  hastening 
forward ;  the  storm  which  had  long  been  gathering 
was  preparing  to  burst.  The  insincere,  temporising 
letter  of  the  Signory  was  received  by  the  Pope  with 
rage  unmeasured.  He  wanted  his  orders  obeyed  ;  here 
was  nothing  but  diplomatic  evasion.  He  sent  a  Brief, 
dated  9th  March,  in  which  he  told  the  Signory  that 
their  recommendations  of  the  Fra  Girolamo  were 
beside  the  mark.  He  had  never  disapproved  of  his 
virtues  or  his  preaching ;  what  he  condemned  jn^  his 
mischievous  obstinacy  in  despising  ecclesiastical  cen- 
sures, and  he  could  tolerate  his  disobedience  no  longer. 
For  the  lasnime  he  wii;rn(id  iind  (iummaiided  them 
to  send  the  Friar  to  Rome  forthwith,  or  to  confine  him ' 
in  strict  seclusion  within  his  monastery,  until  such 
time   as   he   should   yield   submission   and  crave   for 


202  SAVONAROLA 

absolution.  If  that  were  not  done,  thejnterdict  would 
be  issued,  and  the  city  would  suffer. 

Again  a  Praticawas  summoned  at  Florence,  and 
there  was  long  and  anxious  deliberation  over  the  de- 
mands of  this  menacing  document.  It  was  felt  to  be  a 
critical  moment,  and  the  tension  of  feeling  was  high. 
Abundant  testimonies  were  offered  to  the  value  of 
Savonarola's  work  in  the  city.  Soderini  and  Valori 
were  the  chief  ^s£eakers_on  the  side  of  abstaining  from 
further_ijite£ference  withTiis  preaching.  The  other 
side  was  most  ably  and  dexterously  argued  by  Guid' 
Antpnio  Vespucci,  the  eminent  lawyer  who  represented 
the  views  of  the  aristocratic  party.  The  suspension  of 
Savonarola's  ministries  he  professed  to  deplore  as  a 
spiritual  deprivation  to  the  citizens ;  but  over  against 
that  result  he  pictured  the  disastrous  consequences  to 
Florence — the  ruin  of  commerce,  and  the  loss  of  the 
hope  of  recovering  Pisa — which  an  offence  to  the  Pope 
would  undoubtedly  entail.  It  was  not  positively 
certain,  he  said,  whether  Fra  Girolamo  held  a  direct 
commission  from  God,  but  it  was  certain  that  the  Pope 
had  his  power  from  God,  and  therefore  it  was  wiser  to 
render  obedience.  Should  any  wrong  be  committed  by 
complying  with  the  mandate  from  Rome,  it  was  the 
Pope  who  was  responsible,  and  not  they. 

ypRj^np.p.i^  line  of  reasoning  obviously  harmonised 
with  the  prevailing  mood  of  the_assembly.  As  the 
debate  proceeded,  it  became  increasingly  apparent  that 
the  question  of  the  treatment  to  be  dealt  out  to 
Savonarola  was  being  discussed,  not  in  the  light  of 
what  was  due  to  the  Friar  himself  and  to  the  cause  of 
justice  and  holy  living  which  he,  confessedly,  repre- 
sented, but  in  the  light  of  what  was  most  expedient 


GATHERING  TROUBLES  203 

for  the  city's  material  prosperity.  The  high  note  of 
loyalty  to  right — which  might  have  stirred  men's 
hearts  and  consciences  to  heroic  daring,  and  made  the 
occasion  gloriously  memorable  in  history — was  never 
sounded.  Those  who  might  have  been  expected  to 
sound  it — the  men  who  had  been  most  powerfully 
moved  by  Savonarola's  teaching — were  too  perplexed 
by  the  difficulty  of  the  situation,  and  probably  also 
were  unable  to  throw  off  their  lingering  superstitious 
terror  of  the  baleful  effects  which  a  Papal  anathema 
might  bring  upon  themselves  and  their  city. 

The  decision  was  referred  to  a  select  committee,  who, 
on  the  17th  of  March,  came  to  the  conclusion  that 
Savonarola  shouId_be  "  persuaded  "  to  _cease  from 
preaching,  the  persuasion,  however,  being  intended  to 
have  all  the  force  of  a  prohibitive  command.  This  was 
communicated  by  the  Council  of  Ten  to  Rome  through 
Bonsi,  the  envoy  there,  with  an  anxious  expression  of 
the  hope  that  his  Holiness  would  be  satisfied  with 
what  had  been  done,  and  would  in  his  goodness  restore 
to  the  citizens  their  now  silenced  spiritual  instructor,  of 
whose  ministrations  they  were  grieved  to  be  deprived. 

Ere  this  reply  was  despatched,  Savonarola  had  him- 
self addressed  a  letter  to  the  Pope,  in  which  he  dis- 
played the  fearless  resolution  of  his  mind  in  confronting 
the  decision  on  his  case,  however  unfavourable.  In 
seeking  as  a  good  Christian  to  defend  the  faith  and 
purify  morals,  he  averred,  he  had  met  with  nothing  but 
trials  and  tribulations.  He  told  Alexander  that  he 
had  placed  his  hope  in  him,  only  to  find  that  his  Holi- 
ness had  put  it  in  the  power  of  his  enemies,  like  savage 
wolves,  to  wreak  their  cruelty  upon  him.  No  hearing 
had  been  given  to  the  reasons  he  had  advanced  in  proof 


no 


204  SAVONAROLA 

of  his  doctrines,  his  personal  innocence,  his  submission  to 
the  Church.  Henceforth  he  would  turn  for  hope  to  Him 
who  chooses  the  weak  things  of  the  world  to  confound 
the  strong,  and  who,  as  he  believed,  would  help  him  to 
maintain  the  truth  of  the  cause  for  which  he  suffered, 
and  inflict  just  punishment  on  those  who  persecuted 
him  and  strove  to  hinder  his  work.  "  As  for  myself," 
he  said  in  conclusion,  "  I  seek  no  glory  of  this  world, 
but  I  wait  for  and  desire  death.  LeL.youy-Soliness 
delay  no  longer,  but  take  heed  to  your  own  sfl.lvfl.tion  " 
On  the  evening  of  the  very  day  on  which  the 
resolution  was  passed,  Savonarola  received  the  order  of 
the  Signory  forbidding  him  to  preach.  He  had  just 
held  his  Saturday  service  for  women,  and  had  spoken 
in  terms  of  gracious  tenderness  which  brought  tears  to 
every  eye.  On  the  day  following,  the  18th  of  March, 
the  third  Sunday  in  Lent,  he  mounted  the  pulpit  of 
San  Marco  once  more,  and  delivered  his  last  sermon. 
He  had  not  sought,  he  protested,  to  weaken  the  Roman 
Church,  but  rather  to  augment  its  strength.  Yet  he 
would  not  be  subject  to  the  powers  of  hell,  and  all 
power  that  is  opposed  to  good  is  not  of  God,  but  of 
the  devil.  Oftentimes  he  had  resolved  to  abstain  from 
acting  on  the  things  revealed  to  him,  but  the  word 
of  the  Lord  had  been  within  him  as  a  consuming  fire 
in  his  bones  and  in  his  heart,  and  he  had  not  been  able 
to  restrain  it,  because  he  felt  himself  all  aflame  with 
the  spirit  of  God.  The  order  of  the  Signory  had  come, 
"  but,"  he  said,  "  we  will  obtain  by  our  supplications 
that  which  we  may  not  obtain  by  sermons ;  and  we 
exhort  all  good  men  to  do  likewise.  0  Lord,  I  pray 
Thee,  have  mercy  on  the  good,  and  delay  Thy  promises 
no  longer."     Those  were  Savonarola's  farewell  words 


GATHERING  TROUBLES  205 

from  the  pulpit  to  the  citizens  of  Florence.  When  first 
announcing,  in  1489,  his  intention  of  preaching  in  the 
church  of  San  Marco,  he  had  stated,  according  to 
Burlamacchi,  that  he  would  continue  to  preach  in 
Florence  for  the  space  of  eight  years.  That  period 
had  now  been  fulfilled  ;  it  was  just  some  months  over 
eight  years  since  the  prediction  was  made,  and  at  San 
Marco  he  closed  the  ministry  which  then  he  was  about 
to  begin. 

There  was  yet  one  resource  left  for  the  persecuted 
apostle  of  righteousness.  Realising  that  the  hostility 
of  the  Pope  was  unrelenting,  and  that  the  magistrates 
now  chosen  by  the  Florentines  were  set  against  him- 
self and  bent  on  playing  into  the  Pope's  hands,  Savon- 
arola determined  to'employ  the  weapon  which  hitherto 
he  had  held  in  reserve.  Now  was  the  time,  he  decided, 
to  appeal  to  the  princes  of  Europe,  urging  them  to 
summon  the  Ueneral  Council,  on  which  he  relied  so 
much  for  the  rectification  of  the  abuses  of  the  Church. 
This  was  the  "turn  of  the  key,"  the  mighty  cry 
"  Lazarus,  come  forth,"  by  which,  some  time  before, 
he  had  vowed  to  astonish  and  startle  Christendom. 
Now  that  all  efibrts  towards  conciliation  had  failed, 
and  matters  were  being  driven  to  extremities,  he 
resolved  to  deal  his  last  daring  stroke.  Eid  the 
favourable  moment  for  it  seemed  to  have  arrived. 
Alexander  vi.  was  becoming  increasingly  unpopular. 
His  avarice,  his  unblushing  nepotism,  the  scandals  of 
his  life  and  court,  had  aroused  bitter  feelings  both 
in  Italy  and  abroad.  Many  of  the  cardinals  even 
were  ready  to  welcome  a  scheme  which  fnight  be 
expected  to  rid  the  Church  of  the  pernicious  influence 
of   such  a  man;  and  one  of   them,  Cardinal   Rovere 


/ 


2o6  SAVONAROLA 

of  San  Pietro  in  Vincoli,  who  had  been  Alexander's 
most  formidable  competitor  for  the  Papal  chair,  had 
long  been  plotting  to  get  such  a  scheme  carried  into 
effect.  Charles  viii.  of  France  also  was  supposed  to 
be  waiting  for  some  definite  encouragement  to  move 
in  that  very  direction.  Savonarola  had  already  pre- 
pared the  letters  which  he  designed  to  send  to  that 
monarch,  and  to  the  sovemigiis_of_Bpain,__G^raia^^ 
En^glani__mid__Hungary.  Those  "  Letters  to  the 
Princes"  were  all  substantially  the  same  in  purport. 
'"The  Church  is  steeped  in  shame  and  crime  from 
head  to  foot.  You,  instead  of  exerting  yourselves 
to  deliver  her,  bow  down  before  the  source  of  all 
this  evil.  Therefore  the  Lord  is  angry  and  hath  left 
the  Church  for  so  long  without  a  shepherd.  I  assure 
you  in  the  word  of  the  Lord  that  this  Alexander  is 
no  Pope  at  all,  and  should  not  be  accounted  as  such ; 
for,  besides  having  attained  to  the  chair  of  St.  Peter 
by  the  shameless  sin  of  simony,  and  still  daily  selling 
benefices  to  the  highest  bidder, — besides  his  other 
vices  which  are  known  to  all  the  world,  I  afiirm  also 
that  he  is  not  a  Christian,  and  does  not  believe  in 
the  existence  of  God,  which  is  the  deepest  depth  of 
unbelief."  That  was  the  introduction;  and  then  the 
princes  were  enjoined  to  unite  in  convoking  a  Council 
as  soon  as  possible  in  some  suitable  and  neutral  place, 
while  he,  Savonarola,  on  his  side,  gave  the  assurance 
that  God  would  confirm  the  truth  of  his  words  by 
miraculous  signs. 

As  a  preliminary  step,  Savonarola,  through  the  aid 
of  influential  friends,  opened  communication  with  the 
Florentine  envoys  at  the  chief  foreign  courts,  in- 
forming them  of   the  reasons  for   the  proposal,  and 


GATHERING  TROUBLES  207 

soliciting  their  good  offices  in  its  behalf.  One  of 
those  friends  was  Domenico  Mazzinghi,  who  wrote 
to  Guasconi,  the  envoy  in  France ;  but  of  the  two 
copies  of  the  letter,  which,  for  greater  safety,  Maz- 
zinghi sent  off,  one  was  intejacepted  by  the  spies  of 
Ludoxico^oflVIilan,  and  by  him  forwarded  to  the 
Pope.  Alexander's  rage  was  remorseless  now,  a  rage 
embittered  by  terror,  for  the  dread  of  his  life  for 
years  past  had  been  the  possibility  of  a  General 
Council  being  convened.  Savonarola's  own  letters  to 
the  princes  of  Europe  were  never  despatched.  Before 
there  was  time  to  ascertain,  from  the  correspondence 
with  the  envoys,  whether  the  way  was  ready  for 
launching  the  proposal  and  throwing  the  ecclesias- 
tical world  into  commotion,  the  tempest  broke  over 
him  in  Florence  itself,  and  fell  upon  him  with  a 
blow  which  crippled  all  further  power  and  effort. 


CHAPTEE  XXII 

The  Ordeal  by  Fire 

It    is    only   too    patent    that    {^f^ynnn.rr>1n.'s    as«npifli.inn 

with  the  party  politics  of  Florence  was  the  main 
cause  contributing  to  his  downfall  and  to  the  tragedy 
of  his  career.  It  provoked  opposition  to  him  on 
political  grounds,  which  was  malignantly  brought  to 
bear  against  his  religious  work  and  aims.  It  was 
political  antagonism  which  drove  him  into  collision 
with  ecclesiastical  authority  and  embroiled  him  in 
hostile  relations  with  the  Pope.  Men  assailed  the 
prophetic  claims  of  the  preacher,  because  the  stand 
he  took  was  an  obstacle  to  their  partisan  designs 
in  matters  affecting  the  State.  This  was  at  the 
bottom  of  the  persistent  persecution  which  beset  him 
even  after  he  had  been  reduced  to  silence  and  shut 
up  in  his  convent  by  the  order  of  the  Signory  and 
the  Papal  ban.  His  rivals,  the  Franciscans,  now 
received  every  encouragement  to  turn  their  attacks 
upon  him.  They  had  always  been  forward  to  point 
out  the  errors  of  his  teaching,  but  so  long  as  Savon- 
arola held  sway  in  the  pulpit  and  enthralled  men 
by  the  blaze  of  his  eloquence,  their  jealous  cavilling 
and  detraction  met  with  little  regard.  When,  how- 
ever, the  decree  of   excommunication   came  and  was 


THE  ORDEAL  BY  FIRE  209 

set  at  nought,  they  found  their  opportunity.  ^  People 
were  eargoii^JiD  _h£aJl,Jke„yalidity  o^  excommuni- 
cation^  discussed.  The  Franciscans  of  Santa  Croce, 
envious  of  the  superior  fame  gained  by  the  Domini- 
cans of  San  Marco,  were  conspicuous  by  their 
vehemence  in  this  controversy,  and  from  the  moment 
that  Savonarola  was  silenced  they  redoubled  their 
zeal  in  stigmatising  his  conduct  as  revolutionary  and 
heretical.  One  of  their  number,  Fra  Francesco  di 
Pjiglia^  who  was  preaching  in  the  church  of  Santa 
Croce  during  that  Lent  of  1498,  was  carried  away 
so  far  by  the  heat  of  his  polemical  passion,  that  he 
declared  his  readiness  to  enter  a  burning  fire  "along 
witli.Jhe_adversary,"  as  he  said,  in  order  to  test  the 
validity  or  nullity  of  the  excommunication  and  the 
truth  or  error  of  Savonarola's  prophetic  pretensions. 
This-Jihallenge  was  at  once  taken  up  by  Savonarola's 
enthusiastic  disciple,  Fra  Domenico  da  Pescia,  who 
was  still  preaching  on  his  master's  behalf,  and  eager 
as  ever  to  display  his  loyalty  and  devotion.  Domenico 
lost  no  time  in  publishing  the  "  Conclusions,"  or  pro- 
positions, which  he  was  prepared  to  prove  by  accepting 
the  fiery  ordeal ;  namely,  that  the  Church  was  in 
need  of  reform,  and  would  be  chastised  first  and  then 
restored;  that  Florence  also  would  be  chastised,  and 
afterwards  restored  to  flourish  anew ;  that  the  in- 
fidels would  be  converted  to  Christianity ;  that  these 
things  would  come  to  pass  in  that  very  age;  and 
that  the  excommunication  pronounced  against  Fra 
Girolamo  Savonarola  was  invalid,  and  might  be  dis- 
regarded without  sin. 

Savonarola   realised   the   dangerous   nature   of  the 
ground  on  which  his  trusty  follower  was  venturing^ 
14 


210  SAVONAROLA 

and  endeavoured  to  restrain  his  imprudent  ardour, 
although  it  was  soon  evident  that  he  was  quite  power- 
less to  control  the  issues  that  had  been  raised.  The 
whole  matter  was  complicated  by  ^h^  ^fmngo  nnfinn 
of  the  S^'gnory  in  giving  '^ffi'^^p^  ^^^intenninrif^  to  the 
carry^Dg  out  of  such  a  test.  They  summoned  both 
parties  to  an  audience,  and  called  upon  them  to  present 
the  terms  on  which  they  desired  the  experiment  to 
be  made.  Fra  Domenico's  "Conclusions"  were  duly 
registered.  Fra  Francesco,  however,  seeing  that 
Domenico  was  really  in  earnest,  endeavoured  to  draw 
back  from  any  pledge  to  undergo  the  ordeal  with 
him ;  it  was  with  Fra  Girolamo  himself,  he  avowed, 
that  he  was  ready  to  pass  through  the  fire ;  and  as 
Fra  Girolamo  held  aloof  he  retired  from  the  contest, 
putting  forward~"anotTier  monk,  Fra  Giuliano  Ron- 
dinelli,  as  one  who  was  willing  in  his  stead  to  main- 
tain the  challenge  with  Fra  Domenico.  Domenico, 
on  the  other  hand,  pleaded  that  Savonarola  was 
reserved  for  higher  things,  and  had  still  more  im- 
portant work  to  accomplish,  and  his  time  had  not 
yet  come. 

The  subject  awakened  a  feverish  interest  not  only 
among  the  magistrates  and  the  religious  orders  con- 
cerned, but  throughout  the  city.  It  was  the  sensation 
of  the  hour;  the  Florentines  could  talk  of  nothing 
p.lap. ;  fl,nrl  all  looked  forward  impatiently  to  a  spectacle 
more  dramatically  exciting  than  any  which  even  that 
generation,  that  had  seen  so  many  stirring  events,  had 
yet  witnessed.  The  Arrabbiati  plied  their  wily  arts 
in  hastening  on  the  ordeal,  in  the  expectation  that 
somehow  their  great  adversary  would  be  crushed  or 
disgraced.     That  wild  band   of   mischief-makers,   the 


THE  ORDEAL  BY  FIRE  211 

Compagnacci,  brought  their  influence  to  bear  on  the 
temporising,  unscrupulous  Signory,  trusting  that  at 
length  had  come  their  best  chance  of  ruining  the  man 
they  feared,  and  hated  because  they  feared.  The 
Piagnoni,  on  their  part,  were  zealous  for  the  honour 
and  credit  of  their  revered  leader,  and  hoped  that  he 
would  consent  to  have  his  mission  and  message  vin- 
dicated by  the  test  proposed,  and  by  the  supernatural 
triumph  which  they  fully  believed  would  be  given. 
Many  of  them  were  ready  to  accept  the  challenge  for 
him.  There  was  quite  a  throng  of  volunteers — re- 
spectable citizens,  women,  and  children  even — fervently 
desirous  of  passing  through  the  fire  to  prove  the  truth 
of  his  teaching  and  claims ;  while  the  members  of  his 
own  brotherhood  of  San  Marco — and  they  numbered 
almost  three  hundred  at  this  date — vied  with  each 
other  in  their  enthusiastic  anxiety  to  show  their 
loyalty  by  offering  themselves  for  the  ordeal.  Fra 
Mariano  Ughi  came  early  to  the  front,  and  friars  of 
such  distinguished  family  as  Fra  Malatesta  Sacromoro 
and  Fra  Roberto  Salviati  signed  a  declaration  to  stake 
their  lives. 

To  the  Signory,  this  multitude  of  competitors  on  the 
one  side  for  the  privilege  of  undergoing  the  test  was 
rather  perplexing.  A  meeting  of  officials  was  held  on 
30th  March,  and  in  the  discussions  many  declared  the 
question  to  be  one  which  the  ecclesiastical  authorities 
should  be  left  to  settle ;  but  the  predominant  feeling 
was  that  the  ordeal  should  be  proceeded  jvvith  as  a 
means  of  quieting  the  public  mind^  and  healing'  the 
divisions  m  the  ciiy!  Even  the  sympathisers  with 
Savonarola  who  were  present  joined  in  advising  that 
the  matter  should  go  forward,  their  hope  being  that 


212  SAVONAROLA 

the  issue  would  redound  to  his  greater  glory.  It  was 
finally  agreed  that  the  ordeal  should  take  place; 
further,  that  if  the  Dominican  champion  should  perish, 
Savonarola  must  leave  the  city;  or  if  the  Franciscan 
champion,  then  Fra  Francesco  must  go.  Should  both 
champions,  however,  succumb  to  the  flames,  the  sen- 
tence of  banishment  was  to  fall  on  the  Dominicans 
alone ;  and  if  one  or  other  of  them  refused  to  enter  the 
fire,  he  and  his  party  should  gufier  the  penalty. 

Savona£ola_took__n^  to    prevent    the 

ordeal.  When  he  addressed  a  large  company  of  his 
telTowers  on  the  1st  of  April  at  San  Marco,  he  found 
every  one  eager  to  face  the  trial.  Ecco  mi  !  Ecco  mi  ! 
"  Behold  me !  Behold  me,  ready  to  go  into  the  fire 
for  the  glory  of  the  Lord ! "  was  the  cry  which  rose 
round  him  on  every  side.  The  enthusiasm  thus  ex- 
hibited struck  him  as  a  sign  from  God  that  a  miracle 
was  going  to  be  wrought.  In  this  assurance  he  was 
encouraged  by  a  vision  of  Fra  Silvestro  Marufii,  one 
of  the  San  Marco  brethren,  a  man  of  highly  nervous 
and  emotional  temperament,  whose  strange  hallucina- 
tions and  hysterical  fancies  of  communications  from 
the  unseen  had  often  exercised  an  undue  influence  on 
Savonarola's  mind,  and  confirmed  that  tendency,  so 
perilously  ensnaring  to  him,  to  indulge  in  pious  delu- 
sions. This  weak  and  excitable  brother  now  announced 
that  he  had  seen  the  guardian  angels  of  Fra  Girolamo 
and  Fra  Domenico,  who  had  declared  to  him  that  Fra 
Domenico  would  pass  through  the  fire  unhurt. 

It  was  hoped  by  many,  alike  on  his  own  side  and 
on  the  side  of  his  opponents,  that  circumstances  would 
force  Savonarola  to  come  forward  and  submit  to  the 
test  himself ;  and  there  was  much  surprise,  and  even 


THE  ORDEAL  BY  FIRE  213 

disappointment,  created  by  his  studious  evasion  of  the 
challenge  which  Fra  Francesco  had  laid  down.  It  was 
only  to  be  expected,  men  thought,  that  he  who  had 
claimed  so  peculiarly  favoured  a  relation  with  Heaven 
should  be  prepared  in  person  to  subject  his  claims  to 
some  form  of  arbitrament  in  which  the  will  of  Heaven 
could  be  emphatically  revealed.  In  all  this  he  was 
only  reaping  the  fruits  of  his  own  extravagant  con- 
ceptions of  his  mission,  and  of  the  misguided  insistence 
on  his  exceptional  standing  and  character  as  the  in- 
spired messenger  of  God.  His  adherents  were  led  to 
entertain  the  confidence  that  no  fire  could  touch  the 
Prophet  of  the  Most  High,  and  they  were  eager  to  see 
his  credit  established  by  the  triumphant  Divine  mani- 
festation which  they  were  sure  would  be  vouchsafed. 
His  enemies  deemed  that  they  had  good  grounds  for 
demanding  his  acceptance  of  an  ordeal  which  would 
put  his  pretensions  to  the  proof,  and  rejoiced  in  the 
prospect  of  having  him  exposed  to  a  danger  from  which 
they  did  not  believe  he  could  possibly  escape.  To  such 
views  and  expectations,  which  he  knew  to  be  widely 
prevalent,  he  replied  in  a  printed  statement  on  the 
subject,  arguing  that  he  was  V^^pip^  j^^ij^c^^jf  \j^  y^f'^vy^ 
for  a^  gre^jitaiLjvyork  than,  such  contests  about  the 
validity  or  nullity  of  the  excommunication — the  re- 
formation of  morals  and  of  the  Church;  and  that  if 
his  adversaries  meant  to  prove  the  validity  of  his 
excommunication,  they  should  first  answer  the  argu- 
ments he  had  advanced,  and  then  it  would  be  time 
to  settle  the  question  by  fire.  As  to  the  proposed 
experiment,  he  said  that,  should  it  indeed  take  place, 
which  he  was  disposed  to  doubt,  he  had  little  hesita- 
tion in  believing  that  they  who  went  into   it  truly 


214  SAVONAROLA 

inspired  by  the  Lord  would  emerge  without  harm  from 
the  flames.  His  attitude  in  the  matter,  it  must  be 
allowed,  was  suffiSeirtly  reasonable  and  honest,  but  it 
was  one  which,  in  the  confused  and  excited^  state  of 
the  public  mind  at  the  moment,  was  seriously  com- 
promising  Io~his  reputation  for  consistency. 

The  Pope  was  duly  informed  of~the  whole  affair. 
Bonsi  had  told  him  of  what  was  transpiring;  and, 
besides,  the  brothers  of  San  Marco  wrote  a  letter  to 
his  Holiness,  explaining  the  circumstances,  and  plead- 
ing the  justice  of  the  cause  which  the  trial  by  fire  was 
intended  to  decide.  Alexander,  it  appears,  did  not 
relish  the  idea  of  having'  hits  sentence  of  excummuni- 
cation  subjected  to  any  such  test;  in>  liis  view  its 
validTty"reste(l  on  his  own  authority  as  the  occupant 
of  the  pontifical  chair.  The  Signory  at  Florence, 
learning  of  his  disinclination  to  sanction  the  ordeal, 
and  wakening  up  at  last  to  the  gravity  and  awkward- 
ness of  the  situation,  sought  refuge  in  delay,  hoping 
that  some  message  might  come  from  Rome  which 
would  put  an  ecclesiastical  prohibition  on  the  course 
proposed.  The  6th  of  April  had  been  originally  fixed 
for  the  great  event;  it  was  now  postponed  to  the 
following  day.  It  was,  moreover,  formally  decided 
that  Fra  Domenico  da  Pescia  and  Fra  Giuliano  Rondi- 
nelli  should  be  accepted  as  the  champions,  and  that  in 
the  event  of  Fr?\  J)Qrner>i(;>.o  boing  bnrned  Savonarola 
should  leave  Florence  within  three  hours.  Fra  Dome- 
nico's  ardour  increased  as  the  day  approached ;  he  fully 
believed  in  a  supernatural  deliverance.  Rondinelli  had 
no  such  assurance;  he  expressed  his  conviction  that 
both  would  perish  in  the  flames;  but  he  was  quite 
willing  himself  to  suffer  "  for  the  good  of  souls." 


THE  ORDEAL  BY  FIRE  215 

For  several  days  the  friars  on  both  sides  devoted 
themselves  to  prayer  and  fasting.  When  at  last  the 
7th  of  April  dawned,  the  commotion  of  feeling  in  the 
city  was  wrought  up  to  an  extraordinary  degree.  The 
prohibitory  message  which  the  Signory  anxiously 
looked  for  from  the  Pope  had  not  arrived ;  and  accord- 
ingly the  requisite  preparations  were  made  for  the  fate- 
ful experiment  which  monopolised  every  one's  thoughts. 
In  the  Piazza  della  Signoria,  the  scene  of  many  a  stir- 
ring and  sensational  episode  in  history,  a  platform  was 
erected,  sixty  yards  long  and  ten  yards  broad,  stretch- 
ing out  from  the  front  of  the  Palazzo  Vecchio,  and 
on  it  were  piled  two  rows  of  faggots  saturated  with 
oil  and  pitch,  with  a  narrow  space  between,  along 
which  the  champions  were  intended  to  pass.  At  the 
request  of  Savonarola,  it  was  arranged  that  the  fuel 
should  first  be  lighted  at  the  farther  end  of  the  plat- 
form, and  that  when  the  two  friars  entered  at  the 
other  the  torch  should  then  be  applied  to  hem  them  in 
behind.  To  provide  against  a  tumult,  the  openings 
into  the  piazza  were  guarded  by  soldiers ;  troops  were 
stationed  in  front  of  the  palace  balcony;  but  each 
party  had  taken  the  precaution  to  arm  a  section  of 
their  own  adherents  and  place  them  where  they  might 
be  of  use  in  case  of  need.  Thus  three  hundred  Piagnoni, 
with  Marcuccio  Salviati  at  their  head,  were  drawn  up 
to  protect  Savonarola  and  his  monks  from  San  Marco ; 
while  on  the  other  side  of  the  piazza,  as  a  defence  to 
the  Franciscans,  stood  a  band  of  five  hundred  Com- 
pagnacci,  under  their  dashing,  violent  leader  Dolfo 
Spini,  whose  presence  brought  a  d?r)j]^frnni'^  pl^mftnt 
into  the  scene. 

During  the  time  these  preparations  were  going  on, 


2i6  SAVONAROLA 

Savonarola  was  celebrating  Mass  at  San  Marco.  At 
the  close  of  the  ceremony  he  went  into  the  pulpit  and 
addressed  the  gathering  of  monks  and  devoted  friends 
in  a  tone  which,  though  exceedingly  solemn,  yet  be- 
trayed a  hesitation  and  diffidence  in  him  quite  unusual. 
"  I  cannot  be  certain,"  he  said,  "  that  the  ordeal  will 
take  place,  for  that  does  not  depend  upon  us ;  but  I  am 
able  to  tell  you  that  if  it  does  take  place,  the  victory 
will  certainly  be  ours."  He  appealed  to  God  to  bear 
witness  that  he  and  his  side  had  been  challenged,  and 
that  they  could  not  refuse  to  defend  His  honour ;  and 
when  he  turned  to  the  congregation  and  asked,  "  Are 
you  willing  to  serve  God,  0  my  people  ?  "  every  voice 
answered,  "  Yes,"  with  prompt  and  enthusiastic  fer- 
vour. Then  he  told  the  women  present  to  remain  in 
the  church  and  continue  in  prayer  till  the  trial  was 
over. 

Meanwhile  an  enormous  multitude  had  assembled  in 
the  Piazza  della  Signoria.  The  great  open  space  was 
filled  with  a  mass  of  people,  that  grew  ever  more  dense 
and  closely  packed  as  the  hour  of  the  great  event  drew 
near.  The  windows,  balconies,  and  roofs  of  the  houses 
all  round  were  thronged ;  every  pillar,  cornice,  or  piece 
of  statuary  was  taken  advantage  of  by  eager  sight- 
seers. It  seemed  as  if  the  whole  population  of  Florence 
had  crowded  there  together,  strung  to  the  highest  pitch 
of  expectation.  For  rarely  in  human  experience  is  it 
given  to  witness  an  actual  manifestation  of  the  super- 
^ natural,  and  such  aT'maniftiJ^t^tion  was  nOVV  louked'Tor 
by  the  great  majority  in  that  immense  assemblage,  a 
spectacle  of  miraculous  interposition  which  would  feed 
the  love  of  the  marvellous  so  deeply  seated  in  the 
human    heart,   and  which   would  supply  a  sensation 


THE  ORDEAL  BY  FIRE  217 

that  would  dazzle  the  eyes,  set  the  nerves  thrilling,  and 
hold  its  place  in  the  memory  till  the  end  of  life. 

The  Loggia  dei  Lanzi,  that  interesting  structure, 
with  its  graceful  columns  and  arches,  and  its  striking 
statues,  which  stands  on  the  left  side  of  the  Piazza,  not 
far  from  the  entrance  to  the  Palazzo  Vecchio,  was  set 
apart  for  the  accommodation  of  the  two  rival  bodies 
of  friars — the  half  nearest  the  Palazzo  being  allotted 
to  the  Franciscans,  the  other  half  farther  off  to  the 
Dominicans  from  San  Marco.  The  Franciscans  were 
already  in  their  places,  having  come  early,  without  any 
demonstration,  and  now  stood  waiting  in  their  frocks 
of  grey.  It  had  just  struck  twelve,  when  the  sound  of 
singing  was  heard,  and  Savonarola  and  his  followers 
appeared.  They  marched  into  the  square,  as  they  had 
done  through  the  streets,  in  solemn  procession,  the 
monks  first,  between  two  and  three  hundred  in  number ; 
then  Fra  Domenico,  arrayed  in  a  red  cope,  a  cross  in 
his  hand,  and  bearing  himself  with  serene  and  exalted 
mien ;  then  Savonarola  himself,  on  whom  at  once  all 
eyes  were  fixed,  clad  in  the  white  robe  of  the  priest, 
and  carrying  before  him  the  Blessed  Sacrament ;  while 
a  band  of  faithful  disciples,  holding  aloft  lighted 
torches,  filed  in  behind,  all  chaunting  the  psalm,  "  Let 
God  arise,  and  let  His  enemies  be  scattered,"  and  re- 
peating the  first  verse  as  a  refrain,  which  was  taken 
up  by  a  multitude  of  voices  in  the  crowd  with  a  fer- 
vour and  force  so  startling  that  the  very  ground  under 
foot,  as  Burlamacchi  relates,  appeared  to  tremble.  The 
friars  mounted  the  steps  and  moved  into  their  com- 
partment in  the  Loggia,  Savonarola  placed  the  Sacra- 
ment on  the  altar  set  there  beforehand  for  the  purpose, 
and  he  and  Fra  Domenico  knelt  for  a  few  minutes  in 


2i8  SAVONAROLA 

front  of  it  till  the  chaunting  ceased.  Then  all  was 
ready;  the  vast  multitude  was  hushed,  and  watched 
with  palpitating  emotions  for  the  issue  of  that  strange 
contest  which  had  brought  them  together. 

Savonarola  had  risen  from  his  knees  and  faced  the 
crowd,  calm  and  confident.  He  had  been  troubled  with 
dl^ubts  as  to  the  moral  legitimacy  of  the  trial,  which 
nevertheless,  through  pressure  of  circumstances,  he  had 
been  forced  to  sanction.  But  now  he  looked  as  if  all 
misgivings  had  vanished.  He  felt  convinced  that  his 
cause  was  the  cause  of  a  righteous  God,  and  that,  as 
this  mode  of  vindicating  himself  and  his  position  had 
not  been  of  his  own  choosing,  surely  God  would  be 
with  him  and  show  His  favour  by  preserving  the 
champion  who  was  risking  life  on  his  side.  As  for 
Fra  Domenico,  he  stood  there  with  radiant  counten- 
ance and  dauntless  heart,  anxious  to  confront  the  test 
which  would  redound,  as  he  believed,  to  the  glory  of 
God  and  his  beloved  leader. 

There  was  some  delay,  however,  which  was  unintel- 
ligible to  the  mass  of  spectators.  The  members  of  the 
Signory  had  not  taken  their  position  on  the  Palace 
balcony.  The  Franciscan  champion,  Fra  Rondinelli, 
was  not  to  be  seen,  neither  was  his  instigator,  Fra 
Francesco  di  Puglia,  in  whose  behalf  he  had  pledged 
himself  to  undergo  the  ordeal.  The  fact  was  that  both 
were  engaged  inside  the  palace  in  anxious  consultation 
with  the  Signory  over  certain  difficulties,  which  their 
vacillation  at  the  last  moment  had  moved  them  to 
raise.  Tl^^^y-^hjpr^ff^rl  first  of  all,  .ta  Domenico's  enter- 
ing the  flames  with  the  red  cope  which  he  wore ;  then, 
when  this  had  been  removed,  they  found  fault  with 
his  ordinary  vestments  as  being  possibly   enchanted 


THE  ORDEAL  BY  FIRE  219 

against  the  fire. '  Savonarola  protested  against  an  ob- 
jection so  frivolous,  but  at  last  yielded,  and  Domenico 
was  taken  into  the  palace  to  change  clothes  with 
Alessandro  Strozzi,  one  of  the  San  Marco  brethren, 
who,  when  he  heard  his  name  called,  in  his  sanguine 
fervour  imagined  that  he  was  to  have  the  honour  of 
meeting  the  challenge,  and  threw  himself  at  Savon- 
arola's feet  to  receive  his  blessing,  with  the  Te  Deum 
Laudamus  bursting  from  his  lips.  The  delay  thus 
caused  was  exceedingly  tantalising  to  the  waiting  mul- 
titude, who  soon  became  restless  and  indignant.  There 
were  cries  for  Savonarola  himself  to  step  forward  and 
begin  the  trial.  Then  came  an  outbreak  of  wild  dis- 
order^during  which  the  armed  (Jompagnacci  inftde  a 
dash  across  the  square,  intent  on  doing  violence  to  the 
object  of  their  hate,  but  were  h^^.tftn  bgck  by  Salviati, 
who,  at  the  head  of  his  band  of  Piagnoni,  drew  a  line 
on  the  ground  in  front  of  the  Loggia,  and  dared  them 
to  cross  it.  Suddenly  a  thunderstorm  broke  overhead, 
and  rain  fell  in  drenching  torrents,  i^ut  the  crowd 
waited  on,  subdued  into  comparative  quietness  once 
more,  and  impatient  tor  the  spectacle  wJhicJi  tJiey  hoped 
might  yet  be  forthcoming. 

The  storm  ceased  as  suddenly  as  it  had  begun, 
but  fresh  difficulties  arose.  Rondinelli  remained 
still  in  the  Palazzo ;  he  and  his  supporters  insisted  that 
Domenico  should  put  aside  the  crucifix  which  he 
carried  in  his  hands.  This  Domenico  agreed  to  do,  but 
expressed  his  determination  to  enter  the  fire  bearing 
the  Sacrament  instead.  The  Franciscans  exclaimed 
against  this  proposal  wath  indignant  horror.  It  would 
be  impious  presumption,  they  argued,  thus  to  expose 
the  Sacred  Host.     On  the  other  hand,  Domenico  and 


2  20  SAVONAROLA 

Savonarola  pleaded,  if  the  Host  were  burned,  it  would 
be  the  accidents  only  which  would  be  consumed,  the 
substance  would  remain.  The  discussion  on  the  point 
appeared  endless.  There  was  a  constant  moving  to 
and  fro,  a  coming  and  going  between  the  palace  and 
the  Loggia,  but  with  no  definite  result ;  neither  party- 
would  give  way.  Again  the  p.yowd  became  restless. 
HojirsJmd^assed ;  the  day,  which  was  expected  to  be 
so  sensationally  eventful,  had  worn  by,  wasted  in  seem- 
ingly fruitless  disputes ;  the  shadows  of  night  were 
gathering,  and  nothing  had  happened,  nothing  been 
done;  and  murmurs  of  d.i  scon  tent  were  everywhere 
heard. 

At  length,  as  darkness  set  in,  the  Signory,  who  had 
been  painfully  perplexed  all  day,  realising  the  deadlock 
to  which  the  matter  had  come,  decided  to  suspend  the 
ordeal,  and  gave  orders  to  both  parties  to  retire  to  their 
convents.  Fiji ri oils  was  the  rage  of  the  swarmin^mass 
of  people  when  that  order  became  known.  Weary, 
hungry,  drenched,  and  cramped  by  the  tight  pressure 
they  had  so  long  been  obliged  to  bear,  they  were  in  no 
mood  to  accept  the  disappointment  which  now  fell  upon 
them.  They  had  waited  and  waited  through  the  slow- 
moving  hours  for  the  sight  of  that  supernatural  marvel 
which  they  had  been  persuaded  to  look  for,  and  no 
marvel  had  been  wrought.  Exclamations  of  bitterness 
and  of  bafiled  expectation  arose  on  every  hand,  and  it 
was  against  Savonarola  chiefly  that  the  irritation^jsgafi 
^turned.  Why,  men  asked  in  querulous  scorn,  had 
he  personall}'  hung  back,  and  ^^^priYfJ  tbe^^  '^^  the 
miracle  which  he  had  so  often  proclaimed  as  certain 
to  be  given  in  attestation  of  his  mission  from  God  ? 
Even  large  numbers  who  had  warmjy^rpirpd  hhtu^  and 


THE  ORDEAL  BY  FIRE  221 

counted  themselves  amongst  his  followers,  showed  their 
angi:^^vexation.  TtTey,  hke  others,  were  p.ra.vipg  for  a. 
supernatural  token  which  should  prove  the  truth  of 
the  great  Friar's  teaching,  and  which,  moreover,  would 
gratify  their  pride  in  him  as  their  leader;  and  they 
deemed  themselves  sorely  aggrieved  by  what  seemed 
to  them  his  reprehensible  waaknesski  not  -stepping 
forward  in  person  and  volunteering  tosettle  the  whole 
gnftsfinrt  ISjTHpring  fVift  fipry  fPHfi  nijone^^and  giving~the 
sigiL-^desired.  ^  The  revulsion  of  feeling  was  so  great, 
and  the  tumult  of  resentment  so  strong,  that  Savon- 
arola found  it  essential  to  request  a  guard  from  the 
Signory  to  protect  him  and  his  monks  on  their  way 
home  through  the  streets.  The  request  was  complied 
with,  but  the  march  to  San  Marco  was  a  sad  contrast 
to  the  solemn  dignity  and  exalted  enthusiasm  of  the 
morning  procession.  Slowly  and  with  difficulty  Savon- 
arola and  his  company  of  friars  moved  on^  assailed  by 
the  reproaches,  gibes,  and  imprecations  of  the  mob, 
and  only  saved  from  positive  violence  by  the  armed 
escort  accompanying  them,  and  by  the  reverence  felt 
for  the  Sacrament  which  he  was  carrying  back  in  his 
hands.  -> 

It  was  a  melancholy  downfall,  a  veritabletragedy' 


of  reverse.  Here  was  the  man  who,  in  a  momentous 
crisis,  had  been  the  dictator  of  Florentine  affairs,  the 
idol  of  the  people  for  several  years,  their  lawgiver, 
thf^ir  Rpiritinnl  rlirectorj  the  eloquent  prophet-preacher 
on  whose  lips  they  had  hung,  and  who  had  swayed 
them  in  glowing  fervour  or  in  tremulous  penitential 
awe — now  disowned,  and  turned  upon  with  ruthless 
bitterness,  and  that  by  the  very  people  amongst  whom 
his  best  work  had  been  performed  and  his  greatest 


2  22  SAVONAROLA 

triumphs  won.  It  was  not  because  of  any  un worthiness 
in  himself,  nor  because  of  anything  sinister  in  his  aims, 
nor  any  deterioration  in  his  character.  His  strong 
and  lofty  soul  had  lost  none  of  its  strenuous  nobility  of 
purpose.  But  he  had  been  carried  away  with  increasing 
readiness  by  pious  self-delusions,  by  errors  of  the  fancy 
born  of  morbid  religious  excitement,  and  by  the 
hft,ani1irig_^p«oinnsnpt^<^  of  exceptional  insight  jnto  the 
w^S^-of  God.  And  hence,  mistakenly,  but  honestly 
enough,  he  had  advanced  claims  to  Divine  inspiration 
which  jx£4inen/sjmn(ls~and  led  them  to  Jook  for  some 
'WL^^'g^^^  ^^^TTa<^^ft^''^aitiion  <^f  his  lieavenly  power.  And 
^  when  the  expectations  thus  kindled  were  all  of  a 
sudden  baulked  and  quenched,  it  was  but  natural 
that  there  should  be  a  wild  rebound,  a  spasm  of 
indiffnajit  resentment,  in  which  all  the  admiration  and 
faith  he  had  evoked  towards  himself  were  shaken. 
The  temper  of  the  crowd,  and  the  execrations  hurled 
at  Savonarola  that  evening,  as  the  convent  gates  closed 
behind  him,  made  it  abundantly  evident  that  the  spell 
was  broken.  The  prophetic  halo  which  had  surrounded 
him  in  the  eyes  of  the  people  was  gone.  The  wand  of 
the  magician  had  crumbled  in  his  hands. 

The  supplications  of  the  women  in  the  convent 
church  had  been  maintained  through  the  whole  of 
that  anxious  day.  Savonarola  went  in,  made  his 
way  to  the  pulpit,  and  spoke  to  them  a  few  words 
in  explanation  of  what  had  occurred,  counselled  them 
and  the  brethren  who  had  come  in  with  him  to  live 
a  godly  life,  and  then,  after  the  Te  Deum  had  been 
sung,  dismissed  them  with  his  blessing. 

Painful  must  have  been  his  reflections  as  he  shut 
himself  up  in  his  cell,  at  the  end  of  the  long  corridor, 


THE  ORDEAL  BY  FIRE  223 

tliat  night.  He  could  not  but  know  that  the  malignant 
purpose  of  his  enemies  had  been  gained,  that  lija.  power 
had  bgen  shattered,  that  his  je£edit-^w4^-~Ui^  <3itizens 
wa&j'uined.  What  self -questionings  racked  his  mind, 
or  what  chills  of  discouragement  came  over  him,  no 
one  can  tell.  But  this  certainly  we  know,  from  what 
his  subsequent  demeanour  revealed,  that  his  loyalty  to 
God  and  his  own  soul  held  fast,  his  spirit  kept  true  to 
its  highest  aims,  and  his  courage  survived  unquelled  to 
confront  the  dark  catastrophe  which  was  casting  its 
shadow  over  his  path. 


/ 


/ 


<r^     OF  THE     ^/^ 


CHAPTEE  XXIII 

The  Buksting  of  the  Storm 

The  sensational  project  of  the  Ordeal  by  Fire  had  ended 
in  a  fiasco.  While  this  result  was  regarded  by  the 
Arrabbiati  as  the  very  triumph  for  their  designs  on 
which  they  had  built  their  hopes,  it  was  apparently 
accepted  by  Savonarola  as  a  death-blow  to  his  personal 
reputation,  and  to  that  singular  moral  ascendancy 
which  he  had  so  long  been  permitted ~to~wield:~Tt  is 
evident  that  he  frankly  recognised  the  fatal  termina- 
tion to  his  career,  now  ominously  drawing  nigh.  The 
day  following  the  foiled  experiment  was  Palm  Sunday, 
and  in  the  morning  a  congregation  of  worshippers 
assembled  in  San  Marco  Church.  He  appeared  among 
them,  and  in  a  brief  address  declared  his  readiness  to 
give  his  life  for  his  flock,  and  bade  them  a  loving  and 
sorrowful  farewell. 

For  some  hours  the  excitement  still  working  in  the 
breasts  of  the  Florentine  populace  was  in  large  measure 
outwardly  suppressed ;  but  later  in  the  day,  when 
numerous  parties  of  the  Friar's  yet  unshaken  adherents 
sought  to  enter  the  Duomo,  where  Fra  Mariano  Ughi, 
one  of  those  who  had  offered  to  pass  through  the  fire, 
was  expected  to  preach,  they  found  themselves  hustled, 
insulted,  and  worried  with  scornful  jeers.     The  Com- 

224 


THE  BURSTING  OF  THE  STORM     225 

pagnacci  were  there  in  strong  force,  both  inside  the 
building  and  at  the  doors,  and  it  was  obvious  at  once 
that  violence  was  to  be  used  to  prevent  the  service 
being  held.  Amid  the  confusion  and  rough  treatment 
some  one  was  provoked  to  retaliate ;  swords  were 
drawn,  and  there  was  a  rush  for  the  street.  "  There, 
meanwhile,  bands  of  wild  lads  had  been  stationed, 
waiting  to  pelt  the  faithful  Piagnoni  with  stones. 
"  To  San  Marco,  to  JSanMHP^-  cried  the  reckless 
CompagnaccT,  and  the  hurriedly  gathering  mob  re- 
sponded, to  the  cry.  On  their  way  through  the  streets 
they  attacked  an  inoffensive  man  who  was  singing  a 
psalm  as  he  went  to  vespers,  and  with  irreverent  gibes 
ran  him  through  with  a  spear.  Another,  a  devout 
spectacle-maker,  who  stepped  from  his  door,  slippers  in 
hand,  to  remonstrate  with  the  rioters,  was  struck  dead 
by  one  cruel  blow. 

The  vesper  service  was  just  closing  when  the  church 
of  San  Marco  was  reached,  and  the  kneeling  congre- 
gation, startled  by  the  volley  of  stones  which  came 
crashing  through  the  windows,  hastily  dispersed.  The 
church  doors  and  the  gates  of  the  convent  were  at  once 
shut  and  securely  barred,  a  small  party  of  about  thirty 
loyally  attached  citizens  remaining  to  lend  their  aid 
in  the  defence.  Without  Savonarola's  knowledge,  but 
with  the  connivance  of  certain  of  the  brothers,  a  few 
of  those  friends  had,  during  the  previous  days,  made 
preparations  for  withstanding  a  siege,  and  had  secretly 
brought  into  the  convent  a  supply  of  weapons  of 
various  kinds,  ammunition,  and  even,  it  is  said,  cannons. 
The  arms  were  now  produced,  and  a  small  number  of 
the  monks — about  fifteen  or  twenty  only,  as  far  as  can 
be  ascertained — joined  the  laymen  in  equipping  them- 
15 


226  SAVONAROLA 

selves  for  the  fray.  Many  more  were  disposed  to  take 
part  in  the  struggle,  but  were  restrained  by  the  admo- 
nitions of  Savonarola,  who  exhorted  them  not  to  stain 
their  hands  with  blood.  His  remonstrances,  however, 
seconded  though  they  were  by  the  earnest  entreaties  of 
Fra  Domenico,  had  no  effect  on  the  few  ardent  spirits 
— foremost  among  them  Fra  Benedetto,  the  skilful 
miniature  painter,  and  Fra  Luca  della  Robbia — who 
had  already  donned  their  accoutrements  and  seized  the 
weapons  which  they  were  impatient  to  employ.  Seeing 
that  his  words  were  in  vain,  and  hearing  the  noise  of 
the  furious  attack  outside,  he  hurriedly  put  on  his 
priest's  cope,  took  a  crucifix  in  his  hand  as  his  only 
protection,  and  bent  his  steps  towards  the  gate,  to 
surrender  himself  at  once  to  the  raging  crowd,  saying 
as  he  did  so,  "  It  is  on  my  account  that  this  storm  has 
arisen."  The  throng  of  brothers  and  citizens  pressed 
round  him,  and  with  urgent  expostulations  succeeded 
in  holding  him  back  from  his  purpose. 

There  was  a  brief  lull  in  the  uproar  in  the  Piazza ; 
but  when  a  mp-ssfingfir  fl.rrivp.d  from  the.  Signory — who 
had  been  sitting  in  consultation  through  the  afternoon 
— conveying  an  order  that  the  defenders  shmild  lay 
down  their  arms,  and  that  Savonarola  should  ^o  into 
banishment  within  twelve  hours,  the  onset  on  the 
convent  was  renewed.  It  was  then  that  Savonarola's 
old  and  trusted  friend,  Francesco  Yalori,  who  had  been 
actively  engaged  in  the  defence,  left  the  convent  by 
climbing  over  the  garden  wall,  his  object  being,  as  is 
supposed,  to  look  after  the  safety  of  his  own  household, 
and  also  to  rally  the  more  staunch  Piagnoni  to  their 
master's  aid.  Yalori  reached  his  home  only  to  find  it 
soon  surrounded  by  a  crowd  of  rioters,  who  threatened 


THE  BURSTING  OF  THE  STORM      227 

to  sack  it  and  burn  it  to  the  ground.  His-^w4fe,  drawn 
in  alarm  to  the  window  on  hearing  the  tumult,  was  shot 
dead  by  abolt  from  a  crossbow.  A  few  minutes  after- 
wards,  an~"oJEcial  came  from  the-  Signory  to  summon 
ValoiLhimself  at  once  to  the  Palace ;  and  as  he  obeyed, 
firm  and  fearless  as  ever,  and  confident  in  his  own 
integrity,  he  was  set  upon  and  slain,  ere  he  had  gone  far 
on  the  way,  by  some  kinsmen  of  Budolfi  and  Torna- 
buoni,  in  revenge  for  the  part  he  had  taken  in  procur- 
ing the  condemnation  and  execution  of  those  and  the 
other  Medicean  conspirators  in  the  previous  year. 

The  mob  around  San  Marco  increased  as  the  dark- 
ness of  that  Palm  Sunday  evening  fell,  and  the  assault 
on  the  convent  waxed  fiercer.  Fire  was  applied  to  the 
doors,  and  the  most  determined  efforts  were  made  to  force 
an  entrance  into  the  building.  Savonarola,  calling  the 
monks  together,  led  them  singing  in  procession  through 
the  cloisters,  and  then  into  the  choir  of  the  church, 
telling  them  that  prayer  was  the  only  lawful  weapon 
for  them  to  use.  The  majority  of  the  laymen  present 
were  subdued  into  reverence,  and  came  in  behind  to 
join  in  the  act  of  w^orship.  There,  in  the  dimly-lighted 
sanctuary,  he  and  they  continued  to  kneel,  chaunting 
the  Litany,  "  Save  Thy  people,  0  Lord,"  and  preparing 
their  minds  for  death,  if  so  it  should  be,  by  the  sacred 
exercises  of  devotion.  Amid  the  noise  of  the  rabble 
without,  the  battering  at  the  gates,  and  every  sign  of 
menacing  danger,  Savonarola  put  aside  all  attempt  at 
warlike  defence,  and  kept  his  company  of  brothers 
and  followers  long  prostrate  in  supplication  before 
the  Almighty;  and  thus  together  they  awaited  the 
development  of  events. 

At  last,  by  scaling  the  walls,  many  of  the  assailants 


228  SAVONAROLA 

gained  access  to  the  cloisters,  and  the  younger  monks 
and  other  helpers  who  had  armed  for  the  conflict 
hurried  off  to  make  what  resistance  they  could.  There 
was  a  scene  of  clamour  and  confusion  in  which  the 
grotesque  and  the  patheti(»  wprp  Htra-n^ly juiligled. 
The  zealous  brothers,  with  breastplates  over  their 
Dominican  robes  and  helmets  on  their  heads,  brandished 
a  halberd,  a  sword,  or  an  arquebus.  Some  fought  with 
lighted  torches,  or  with  metal  crosses,  shouting  aloud, 
Viva  Cristo  I  Some,  led  by  Fra  Benedetto,  mounted 
aloft  and  poured  down  a  shower  of  stones  and  tiles 
upon  their  opponents.  And  even  amid  blows  and 
bruises  and  bleeding  wounds,  the  loyalty  displayed 
was  touching.  A  young  man,  mortally  stricken,  was 
borne  into  the  choir,  and,  after  receiving  the  Sacrament, 
expired  with  the  words,  which  he  had  often  heard  his 
beloved  master  repeat,  on  his  lips,  *'  Behold  how  good 
and  pleasant  it  is  for  brethren  to  dwell  together  in 
unity,"  and  declaring  with  a  smile  on  his  face,  "  I  have 
never  been  so  happy  as  now."  Some  onft^rsmor  the 
convent  bell,  tolling  out  an  appeal  to  the^city  for 
assistance,  but  the  only  answer  that  came  was  a  fresh 
decree  from  the  iSignorv,  T>fonouncnig  all  to  15e  rebels 
who_did  not  leave  the  convent  within  an  hour;  and 
accordingly  several  friends,  realising  the'  hopelessness 
of  the  struggle,  deemed  it  advisable  to  retire  to  their 
homes. 

At  length  the  doors  of  the  church  were  burned 
through,  and  as  the  smoke  became  suffocating  and  the 
mob  with  volleys  of  shot  were  pushing  in,  Savonarola, 
who  maintained  an  unresisting  attitude  throughout, 
marched  his  friars  and  all  who  were  not  engaged  in  the 
fight,  back  along  the  cloisters  into  the  convent  library, 


THE  BURSTING  OF  THE  STORM      229 

where,  in  kneeling  posture  before  the  Sacrament,  the 
chaunting  of  the  Litanies  was  resumed,  while  in  other 
parts  of  the  convent  the  din  of  strife  went  on.  The 
prayerful  vigil  was  interrupted  by  another  affecting 
instance  of  devotion.  One  of  Savonarola's  disciples,  an 
obscure  tradesman  of  the  city,  was  brought  in  wounded, 
pleading  to  see  the  master,  at  whose  feet  he  bent  with 
the  fervent  request  that  he  might  be  received  into  the 
brotherhood.  It  was  Savonarola's  last  act  of  authority 
to  grant  his  wish,  and  to  invest  him  with  the  friar's 
cloak. 

About  midnight  a  peremptory  order  came  from  the 
Signory,  commanding  Savonarola,  Fra  Domenico,  and 
Fra  Silvestro  to  deliver  themselves  up  at  the  Palace 
without  delay.  They  were  assured  of  a  safe  return  as 
soon  as  the  tumult  was  quelled  ;  but  should  they  resist, 
the  warning  was  given  that  the  convent  would  be 
stormed  by  artillery.  Savonarola  was  prepared  to 
surrender,  but  as  the  order  had  not  been  conveyed  in 
writing,  and  the  leading  brethren  were  suspicious  of 
treachery,  the  officers  were  sent  back  for  the  formal 
document  on  which  alone  relian'ce  could_be  placed.  In 
the  interval  of  waiting,  Savonarola  drew  the  sorrow- 
ing company  closer  round  him,  and,  addressing  them 
as  his  "  children,"  with  deep  feeling  and  strong  faith 
spoke  to  them  a  few  parting  words.  Before  God  and 
in  presence  of  the  Blessed  Sacrament  he  reasserted 
the  truth  of  his  doctrines.  What  he  had  taught,  he 
avowed,  he  had  received  from  God,  who  was  his  witness 
in  heaven  that  he  did  not  lie.  He  did  not  know,  he 
said,  that  the  whole  city  would  so  soon  turn  against 
him,  yet  he  was  content  that  the  will  of  the  Lord 
should  be  done.     "  My  last  counsel  to  you  is  this  :  let 


< 


^^ 


230  SAVONAROLA 

faith,  patience,  and  prayer  be  your  weapons.  I  leave 
you  with  anguish  and  grief  to  give  myself  into  my 
enemies'  hands.  I  do  not  know  whether  they  will  take 
my  life,  but  I  am  certain  that  if  I  must  die,  I  shall  be 
able  to  aid  you  in  heaven  more  than  I  have  been  able 
to  do  on  earth.  Take  comfort,  embrace  the  cross,  and 
by  it  you  will  find  the  harbour  of  salvation."  Then, 
to  fortify  his  spirit  for  whatever  fate  was  in  store,  he 
confessed  to  Fra  Domenico  and  received  the  Sacrament. 
But  there  was  a  Judas  in  the  camp.  Fra  Malatesta 
Sacromoro,  the  very  man  who  had  zealously  sjg^nified 
his  willingness  to  accept  tne  ordeal  of  fire_£^n  his 
m^ter  s  behalf  a  few  days  before,  had  been  so  shaken 
in  his  steadfastness  by  the  disappointing  turn  events 
ad  taken,  that  at  this  most  trying  moment  he  con- 
descended to  play  the  traitor  s  part.  By  his  advice, 
now  secretly  tendered,  the  Compagnacci  storming  the 
convent  were  ui;;ged  to  hurry  on  the  Signory  in 
sending-  the  written  decree  of  arrest.  And  soon  the 
decree  arrived,  with  the  commander  of  the  Palace 
guard  and  his  men  to  enforce  its  demands.  (^Savonarola 
was  entreated  by  his  friends  to  escape  oveF^e  walls 
and  flee,  but  the  remark  interposed  by  Malatesta, 
"  Should  not  the  shepherd  lay  down  his  life 'lor  the 
sJaeep  V  so  deeply  touched  him  that  he  at  once 
banished  the  thought  from  his  mind.  Turning  to  the 
brethren,  he  embraced  them  with  tender  affectionate- 
ness — Malatesta  among  the  first — and  took  his  sad 
farewell.  "  My  dear  brothers,"  he  said,  "  remember 
you  have  no  need  to  doubt.  The  work  of  the  Lord 
will  go  forward  without  ceasing,  and  my  death  will 
only  hasten  it  on."  Amid  the  tears  and  sobs  of 
the  men  who  had  known  by  intimate  fellowship  his 


THE  BURSTING  OF  THE  STORM      231 

worth  and  truth  and  faithful  kindness,  he  left  his 
beloved  San  Marco  for  ever,  and,  along  with  the  always 
devoted  Fra  Domenico,  gave  himself  up  to  the  officials 
appointed  to  make  the  arrest.J 

When  he  appeared  outside,  with  his  hands  tied 
behind  him,  the  mad  glee  of  the  crowd  knew  no 
bounds.  The  glare  of  the  torches  carried  by  the  guards 
lit  up  a  sea  of  wild,  jeering  faces,  every  face  turned  in 
triumphant  derision  on  the  victim  of  political  animosity, 
ecclesiastical  corruption,  and,  alas,  of  popular  fickleness 
and  ingratitude.  Stones  were  hurled  at  him,  insults 
heaped  upon  him,  cries  of  execration  and  foul  reproach 
howled  in  his  ears,  as  he  was  led  through  those  streets 
which  he  had  so  often  trodden  before  on  errands  of 
usefulness,  or  in  devout  procession  with  his  array  of 
monks,  chaunting  psalms  of  praise.  Those  who  could 
get  near  enough  in  the  press  assailed  him  with  the 
most  vulgar  indignities.  Some,  flashing  their  lanterns 
in  his  face,  called  out,  "  There  goes  the  true  light." 
Others  struck  him,  and  with  blasphemous  scoff"  cried, 
"  Prophesy,  who  is  it  that  smote  thee  ?  "  One  kicked 
him  from  behind,  with  the  coarse  jest,  "There  is  the 
seat  of  his  prophetic  power."  His  escort  were  obliged 
to  cross  their  halberds  over  his  head  to  shield  him  from 
savage  blows. 

Thus,  in  the  dead  of  night,  while  many  who  jtill 
loved  and  honoured  him  were  uncertain  as  to  their 
line  of  conduct,  and  rpmniripd  quietly  m  their  homes, 
and  while  others — indeed,  the  larger  proportion  o£  the 
Florentine  citizens — who  had  once  been  his  admirers, 
were  coolpd  jri^  thm'r  syTnp^,^,hies  and  allowed  natters 
to  take  their  course,  the  devoted,  unselfish  benefactor 
of  Florence,  whose  zeal  for  its  welfare  had  led  him 


232  SAVONAROLA 

only  too  frankly  to  reprove  its  sins,  was  loaded  with 
outrage  by  his  worst  enemies  and  by  the  reckless 
rabble  who  played  into  their  hands ;  and  amid  frantic 
uproar  and  violence  was  marched,  a  prisoner,  to  the 
Palace  of  the  Signory.  There,  after  a  few  questions 
by  the  Gonfaloniere  as  to  whether  he  persisted  in  the 
assertion  of  a  Divine  revelation  in  his  teaching,  to 
which  he  returned  a  clear  affirmative  reply,  he  was 
shut  up  alone  in  a  cell  in  the  bell-tower — the  faithful 
Fra  Domenieo  being  confined  in  another  part  of  the 
building.  (Fra  Silvestro,  who  had  been  included  in  the 
order  to  surrender,  had  been  in  hidinio-  and  could  not 
be  found  when  the  arrest  at  San  Marco  was  made. 
Next  morning,  however,  he  emerged  from  his  place  of 
concealment,  and  by  means  of  Fra  Malatesta,  as  some 
witnesses  averred,  he  was  forced  to  give  himself  up  at 
the  Palace,  though  his  weak,  nervous  soul  rendered 
him  but  poorly  fitted  to  endure  the  tribulation  which 
his  stronger  companions  were  facing  so  noblyy  In  the 
course  of  the  day,  nineteen  others,  both  friars  and 
citizens,  who  had  made  themselves  conspicuous  in  de- 
fending the  convent,  were  also  laid  under  arrest. 

Intelligence  flew  to  Rome,  and  the  Pope  was  highly 
gratified.  Through  the  letters  intercepted  by  the 
agents  of  Duke  Ludovico  of  Milan,  he  had  become 
fully  informed  of  Savonarola's  efforts  to  incite  the 
Powers  of  Europe  to  summon  a  General  Council,  the 
first  business  of  which,  as  he  knew,  would  be  to  examine 
his  own  title  to  hold  the  pontifical  throne ;  and  he  was 
delighted  at  the  downfall  of  the  prime  mover  in  such 
a  project.  He  sent  a  Brief  to  the  Signory,  expressing 
his  great  pleasure  that  the  scandal  caused  by  the 
excommunicated  Friar  was  now  brought  to  an  end, 


THE  BURSTING  OF  THE  STORM      233 

praising  them  for  what  they  had  done,  granting  ab- 
solution from  all  their  recent  offences  towards  the  Holy 
Church  and  its  head,  and  promising  plenary  indulgence 
and  restoration  to  the  Church  to  all  followers  of  the 
Friar  who  should  repent  of  their  errors.  The  Brief, 
besides,  stipulated  that_Savonarola  and  his  two  asso- 
ciates, after  being  examined,  should  be  sent  to  Rome 
for  the  final  settlement  of  their  case,  under  the  charge 
of  special  delegates  whom  his  Holiness  would  himself 
appoint.  Alexander  wrote  also  to  the  Franciscans  of 
Santa  Croce,  commending  them  for  their  "holy  zeal 
and  evangelical  charity,"  which  he  would  hold  in 
lasting  remembrance ;  and  to  Francesco  di  Puglia,  ex- 
horting him  to  persevere  in  the  good  and  pious  work 
till  the  evil  should  be  entirely  destroyed.  The  Duke 
of  Milan,  too,  was  profuse  in  his  congratulations;  a 
powerful  obstacle  to  his  designs  on  the  independence 
of  Florence  was  removed. 

So  Savonarola's  foes  rejoiced  over  him.  With  his 
voice  smothered,  his  power  shattered,  his  followers 
cowed,  or  paralysed  by  perplexity;  a  captive  in  the 
grasp  of  men  who  sought  his  ruin, — all  things  conspired 
to  deepen  his  humiliation ;  and  even  that  exalted 
potentate,  the  King  of  France,  to  whom  he  had  looked 
with  such  sanguine,  fanciful  hope  as  the  divinely- 
intended  saviour  of  Italy,  was  no  longer  able  to  aid 
him.  Charles  viit,  hH  ^h'pr]  ^^irlrJAnly  of  apoplexy,  in 
a  wretched  hovel  at  Amboise,  on  the  very  day  when 
Savonarola  and  his  champion  were  confronting  the 
Florentine  crowd  in  view  of  the  expected  ordeal  by 
fire.     Henceforth,  all  confidence  in  man  was  vain. 

Ere  the  Pope's  congratulatory  Brief  arrived,  the 
examination  and  trial  of  Savonarola  had  already  begun, 


234  SAVONAROLA 

and  the  record  of  its  proceedings  forms  a  miserable  and 
melancholy  story.  At  the  very  outset,  the  Signory,  on 
the  plea  of  State  necessity,  took  the  unconstitutional 
step  of  decreeing  that  a  fresh  election  of  the  Councils 
of  the^en  and  of  the  Eight  sliould  be  imm'ediately 
-^  held,  although  the  complete  term  of  those  at  the  time 
in  office  had  not  expired.  The  sole  reason  for  such  a 
course  was  that  the  members  of  those  Councils,  of  the 
Ten  especially,  were  known  to  be  favourable  to  the 
Friar,  and  it  was  desired  to  fill  the  posts  with  men 
more  decidedly  in  sympathy  with  the  party  that  had 
now  risen  into  power.  Their  end  was  gained,  and  on 
the  11th  of  April  a  commission  of  seventeen  was 
appointed  to  conduct  the  examination,  with  full  power 
to  use  such  means  as  they  might  find  expedient  to 
extort  the  evidence  required.  It  was  clear  at  once 
that  no  attempt  was  made  to  secure  an  impartial 
tribunal,  for  among  the  commissioners  chosen  were 
some  of  Savonarola's  bitterest  opponents,  such  as  Piero 
degli  Alberti,  and  the  vindictive,  hot-headed  Dolfo 
Spini  himself.  Indeed,  the  whole  arrangements  for 
the  trial  were  so  manifestly  unjust,  that  one  of  the 
members  elected  for  the  commission,  Bartolo  Zati, 
indignantly  declined  to  act,  declaring  that  he  "  would 
have  no  share  in  this  murder." 

Holy  Week  though  it  was,  when  men  professing  the 
Christian  faith  should  be  moved  to  patience,  mercy, 
and  charity,  the  judges  of  Savonarola  displayed  a  ruth- 
les^  eagerness  in  dealing  out  harshness  and  cruelty. 
The  charges  brought  against  him  had  reference  to  his 
religious  teaching,  his  political  conduct,  and  his  pro- 
\phecies;  and  to  elicit  incriminating  replies  from  him 
►n  these  points,  he  was  taken  to  the  upper  hall  of  the 


t 


THE  BURSTING  OF  THE  STORM      235 

Bargello,  and  there  questioned  and  put  to  the  torture. 
It  was  a  barbarous  procedure,  a  survival  of  the  severe 
TneTfiTp.vaT  methods  of  justice,  which  the  boasted  culture 
of  Florence  at  that  date  should  have  rendered  impos- 
"sible.  Savonarola  was  subiected  to  the  horrible  a^ony 
of  the  pulley  ;  drawn  up  by  a  rope  attached  to  the 
roof  of  the  building,  then  let  suddenly  drop  with  a 
violent  jerk,  which  strained  and  tore  every  muscle  of 
his  finely-strung,  sensitive  frame,  enfeebled  as  it  was. 
by  many  anxious  toils. and  rigid  austerities.  This  was 
repeated  again  and  again,  and  for  days  in  succession, 
with  the  result  that  after  a  few  "  turns  "  of  the  rope  he 
was  thrown  into  delirium.  "O  Lord,  take  away  my 
life,"  he  was  forced  to  cry  in  one  of  his  worst  spasms 
of  anguish.  And  yet,  when  the  grim  infliction  of  the 
day  was  over,  and  he  was  sent  back  pained  and 
wrenched  to  his  cell,  he  could  prostrate  himself  before 
God,  and,  like  the  Great  Example,  pray  for  his  per- 
secutors, "Father,  forgive  them,  for  they  know  not 
what  they  do." 

After  the  trial  had  gone  on  for  several  days,  the 
Papal  Brief,  already  spoken  of,  arrived.  Highly  pleased 
as  the  authorities  were  by  its  general  terms,  they  felt 
gravely  concerned  with  regard  to  the  demand  that 
Savonarola  and  his  two  companions  should  be  sent  to 
Rome.  To  yield  to  such  a  demand,  it  was  thought, 
would  be  an^jiffront  to  the  dignity  ~oF  Florence.  In 
the  Council  held  to  debate  the  point,  it  was  decided 
to  make  an  evasive  reply ;  to  offer  the  fairest  excuses 
possible  for  keeping  the  imprisoned  friars  in  their  own 
hands,  to  proceed  with  the  trial,  and  meanwhile  to  take 
advantage  of  the  Pope's  favourable  mood  to  press  the 
Signory's  oft-renewed  request  for  permission  to  levy  a 


2  36  SAVONAROLA 

tax  on  ecclesiastical  property  in  the  city.  Accordingly, 
the  trial  went  forward,  though  the  statements  wrung 
from  Savonarola  were  admitted  to  be  utterly  insuffi- 
cient as  proof  of  his  guilt.  A  notary  of  the  city, 
however,  offered  his  services  in  reporting  the  evidence, 
pledging  himself  to  put  it  in  such  a  form  as  would 
show  a  clear  ground  for  conviction.  This  was  Ser 
Ceccone,  who  had  once  been  sheltered  by  Savonarola, 
and  saved"TronPtKe™peril  of  exile"(5F^atir  which  his 
poTTtical  misdeeds  had  incurred,  and  who  now,  "after 
prof_essing  tor  some  yeafs~to  be  a  follower,  turned 
againsthis  benefactor.  To  the  disgrace  of  the  Floren- 
tine magistrates  then  in  office,  and  of  the  commissioners 
who  undertook  the  responsibility  of  the  examination, 
Ser  Ceccone,  with  the  promise  of  four  hundred  ducats 
as  his  reward,  was  engaged  to  manipulate  the  deposi- 
tions given  in  the  trial,  and  make  them  suit  the 
purpose  intended.  That  is  an  established  historical 
fact.  Day  after  day  Savonarola  was  made  to  writhe 
under  the  rope  and  pulley  torture,  aggravated  at  times 
by  the  application  of  burning  coals  to  the  soles  of  his 
feet  as  he  hung  suspended;  and  day  after  day  the 
skilful  notary  twisted  the  often  incoherent  words 
which  the  maddening  pain  drew  from  him  till  their 
meaning  was  scandalously  falsified.  B^L-^altfirations, 
omission s^jind  interpolatijms,  the  most  innocent  utter- 
^^^^nces  were  converted  into/^^^ffflsinniS  o^  rlamnrnnnr 
significajice.  Yet,  notwithstanding  the  frequent  in- 
coherence of  his  replies,  Savonarola  remained  mar- 
vellously firm  in  his  asseveration  of  the  truth  of  his 
teaching  and  the  sincerity  of  his  motives  in  seeking 
nothing  but  the  good  of  Florence  in  his  political  action. 
There  he  was  resolute  and  inflexible.     It  was  only  on 


THE  BURSTING  OF  THE  STORM      237 

the  question  of  his  prophecies  and  visions  that  he 
exhibited  any  want  of  consistency  in  his  statements. 
This  had  been  the  point  in  his  public  ministry  which 
he  found  it  most  embarrassing  to  defend  against  criti- 
cism and  attack,  and  he  had  always  been  inclined  to 
indulge  in  vague  and  mystical  explanations  regarding 
it.  Now,  under  the  pressure  of  quivering  bodily 
anguish,  he  expressed  himself  in  terms  which  were 
vaguer  still,  and  sometimes  even  contradictory.  In- 
deed, the  whole  matter  of  his  prophetic  enlightenment 
rested  on  a  basis  so  elusive  that  it  is  not  difficult  to 
understand  how,  in  the  confusion  of  brain  which  the 
torture  caused,  he  should  at  one  moment  declare  that 
his  predictions  were  revelations  direct  from  God,  and  at 
another  that  they  were  founded  on  his  own  opinions 
or  on  deductions  derived  from  Scripture  teaching. 
These  contradictions  Ser  Ceccone  did  his  best  to  set 
in  a  glaring  light  in  his  distorted  version  of  the 
proceedings. 

When  the  trial  had  continued  for  more  than  a  week, 
the  examiners  determined  to  print  the  report  drawn 
up  by  their  notary.  The  document  was  read  over  to 
Savonarola,  and  by  some  means  or  other  his  signature 
to  it  was  extorted  in  the  presence  of  six  monks  from_ 
his  own  conxeniT  Before  attixmg  his  name, Tie^  was 
asked  by  Ceccone,  "  Is  all  that  is  written  here  true  ? " 
and  he  made  answer,  "  What  /  have  written  is  true." 
And  then,  when  the  witnesses  had  duly  signed,  he 
begged  them  to  take  care  of  the  novices  and  instruct 
them  in  good  doctrine,  and  also  to  pray  for  himself, 
because,  he  said,  the  spirit  of  prophecy  had  gone  from 
him  at  the  moment. 

The  report,  after  being  partially  read   before   the 


238  SAVONAROLA 

Signory,  was  duly  published ;  but  so  slender  were  the 
grounds  for  conviction  which  it  presented,  that  the 
authorities  issued  orders  that  all  copies  in  circulation 
shouldjbe  immediately  returned  to  the  printer,  and 
another  version  was  substituted  for  it,  which  proved 
in  no  wise  more  satisfactory.  With  chagrin  and 
alarm,  the  magistrates  realised  their  palpable  failure 
to  make  out  a  case  which  would  justify  them  in  the 
extreme  measures  on  which  they  were  bent.  They 
wrote  to  the  Pope  a  humble  excuse  for  their  failure, 
pleading  that  they  had  to  do  with  a  man  of  the  most 
extraordinary  patience  of  body  and  wisdom  of  soul, 
who  hardened  himself  against  torture,  involving  the 
truth  in  all  kinds  of  obscurity,  with  the  intention  of 
establishing  for  himself  by  pretended  holiness  an 
eternal  name  among  men,  or  of  braving  imprisonment 
and  death. 

To_  Savonarola's  adherents  the  publication,  of  the 
report  brought  a  painful  shock.  They  were  pro- 
fouhdly  agitated  in  mmd  when  they  learned  of  what 
purported  to  be  a  confession  by  their  revered  leader 
of  deception  in  his  teaching.  Many  of  the  most  loyal 
refused  to  believe  in  the  genuineness  of  the  document 
or  in  the  possibility  of  such  a  confession  having  ever 
been  made.  Others,  who  had  been  thrown  into  per- 
plexity by  the  fiasco  of  the  ordeal  by  fire,  too  readily 
accepted  the  confession  as  a  fact,  and  were^  yet  more 
unsettled  in  their  faith.  There  were  others  still  who 
flung  off"  all  pretence  of  allegiance,  boiling  with  indig- 
nation at  the  extent  to  which,  as  they  thought,  they 
had  been  befooled. 

It  was  resolved  to  hold  a  se^^ond  trial,  whidi  was 
begun  on  the  21st  of  April,  and  from  that  day  to  the 


THE  BURSTING  OF  THE  STORM      239 

25th  the  same  process  of  examination  by  torture  and 
falsification  of  the  depositions  was  repeated.  A  por- 
tion of  the  report  was  read  before  the  Greater  Council 
and  an  assembly  of  citizens,  though  not,  as  the  law 
required,  in  the  hearing  of  Savonarola ;  and  to  account 
for  this  the  reader  announced  that  the  Friar  had  de- 
clined to  be  present  through  fear  of  being  stoned — a 
statement  which  no  one  really  believed. 

This  second  trial  was  as  obvious  a  failure  as  the 
first  had  been.  It  was  the  universal  impression  that 
the  evidence  needed  to  prove  a  capital  offence  had  not 
yet  been  obtained.  Nor  could  any  charge  of  flagrant 
guilt  be  substantiated  against  Savonarola  by  the  testi- 
mony of  hia  two  companions,  whose  examination  had 
meantime  been  going  on.  Racked  and  tortured  as  Fra 
Domenico  was,  he  remained  steadfast  in  his  avowaToT 
confidence  in  his  master's  goodness,  single-mindedness, 
and  inspiration  as  a  prophet  of  God;  and  although 
told  that  his  master  had  retracted  and  owned  himself 
a  deceiver,  he  never  for  a  moment  wavered.  With 
unflinching  persistency  the  simple,  brave  monk  bore 
witness  to  the  innocence  and  sterling  integrity  of  the 
man  whose  intimate  associate  and  fellow-worker  he 
had  been  for  years.  The-^hysterical  Fra  Silvestro  was 
less  resolute.  His  spirit  quailed  under  the  torture,  and 
he  was  ready  to  utter  w^hatever  his  tormentors  sug- 
gested; yet  even  his  evidence,  with  all  its^  weak 
vacillations  and  all  its  cunning  manipulation  by  Ser 
Ceccone,  fell  far  short  of  fastening  on  Savonarola  any 
imputation  of  guilty  designs. 

The  result  of  the  trials  altogether  was  a  disappoint- 
ment to  the  Signory,  who  either  desired,  or  felt  bound 
by  political  exigencies  to  find,  a  justification  for  pro- 


240  SAVONAROLA 

ceeding  to  extremes.  So  far  they  had  been  baffled  in 
their  purpose;  even  Ser  Ceccone  had  failed  to  aid 
them  as  they  hoped,  and  they  dismissed  their  crafty 
tool  with  a  fraction  of  the  reward  he  had  worked  for 
— thirty  ducats  instead  of  the  four  hundred  promised 
him. 

Just  as  his  second  trial  was  beginning,  an  element 
of  acute  bitterness  was  thrown  into  Savonarola's  cup 
of  anguish,  by  the  defection  of  his  monks  at  San 
Marco.  Those  men  displayed  a  lamentable  pusil- 
lanimity, and  actually  took  the  step  of  fOTmally  dis- 
nYming  fVi^ir  Tma.afpr  Confouuded  by  the  reported 
retractation  of  his  prophetic  teaching,  and  dismayed 
by  the  painfully  trying  situation  in  which  they  now 
found  themselves,  —  excommunicated,  leaderjess,  ex- 
posed to  the  full  weight  of  ecclesiastical  penalties  and 
popular  scorn, — they  broke  down  in  their  allegiance. 
They  could  no  longer  acknowledge  a  master  who, 
as  they  were  led  to  believe,  had  confessed  himself 
a  deceiver.  Even  the  valorous,  fine-spirited  Fra 
Benedetto  was  for  a  time  utterly  unhinged  in  faith, 
and  fled  from  the  scene,  although  latterly,  after  a 
period  of  retirement  in  the  country,  he  recovered  his 
confidence  in  the  great  soul  that  had  been  his  in- 
spirer  and  guide.  On  the  21st  of  April  the  San 
Marco  brethren  wrote_aJ[gtt£r_of  abject  apology  to 
tbe--^JgQp§^,defilQ^**iag.  tliie.,>&t:r-ai^  Jnto-  whick^iEey  had 
bfifiiL-iirawiL.  They  had  been  beguiled,  they  said,  like 
many  others,  by  the  Fra  Girolamo's  commanding 
ability,  by  his  exalted  doctrines  and  holiness  of  life, 
and  by  the  success  of  so  many  of  his  prophetic 
predictions.  But  now,  having  been  disillusioned  by 
his  own  avowal  of  deception,  they  made  their  humble 


THE  BURSTING  OF  THE  STORM     241 

submission,  and  besought  forgiveness.  "  Let  it  suffice 
your  Holiness,"  they  pleaded,  "  to  punish  the  head  and 
source  of  this  offence ;  we,  like  sheep  who  have  gone 
astray,  return  to  the  true  shepherd." 

Thus  in  his  dire  extremity  Savonarola's  own  house- 
hold turned  against  him. 


/ 


16 


CHAPTEE   XXIV 

The  Tragic  Close 

A  BEIEF  respite  from  molestation  followed  the  conclu- 
sion of  the  second  trial.  The  Signory,  though  deter- 
mined to  compass  the  Friar's  destruction,  were  obliged 
to  pause  for  a  time  by  the  necessity  of  coming  to  terms 
with  the  Pope,  who  was  again  insisting  on  his  demand 
that  Savonarola  and  his  companions  should  be  sent  to 
Rome^Tor  sentence  and^  punishment.  Intheir  corre- 
spondence with  Alexander  VI.  the  Florentine  magis- 
trates urged  that  the  execution  should  take  place  at 
Florence^  where  the  offence  Ead^een  crmirnjj^^.e^^ an d 
that  the  Pope  should  send  commissioners  to  examine 
the  prisoners  on  his  own  behalf;  and  they  gave  it 
plainly  to  be  understood  that  they  had  both  the  means 
and  the  will  to  bring  about  what  they  knew  to  be  his 
Holiness'  desire — the  death  of  the  man  he  feared.  On 
this  assurance  they  founded  a  renewal  of  their  request 
for  the  liberty  of  taxing  ecclesiastical  property.  The 
Pope  finally  agreed.  A  bargain  was  struck  over  the 
life  of  Savonarola.  The  Signory  were  to  be  allowed 
to  carry  out  the  sentence  against  him  at  Florence,  on 
the^ajritivtmpTied  condition  that  it  was  \.n  be  a  sen- 
tence  of  doom;  and,  as  an  inducement  jo  fulfil  the 
engagement,  the  right  to  levy  a  tenth  on  ecclesiastical 


THE  TRAGIC  CLOSE  243 

propertY_was  grant ed_  for  ji^j)eriod  of  thrge^  y^ars. 
"  Three  times  ten,"  was  the  grimly  derisive  remark 
of  the  Piagnoni,  "  make  thirty ;  Savonarolajike  the 
Saviour,  is  sold  for  thirty  pieces  oL^ilyer."  Two  com- 
missioners were  to  be  appointed  by  the  Pope  to  act  in 
his  name  and  to  see  the  case  brought  to  a  satisfactory 
conclusion. 

Pending  the  settlement  of  these  negotiations  and  the 
arrival  of  the  Pope's  representatives.  Savonarola  was 
left  nearly  a  month  in  quiet  in  his  prison-cell.  He 
employed  the  interval  in  writing  two  short  expositions, 
one  on  the  51st,  and  the  other  on  the  31st  Psalm, 
in  which,  in  language  saturated  with  the  spirit  of 
the  Bible,  he  gave  vent  to  the  deepest  emotions  of 
his  heart  in  communion  with  God.  The  tr^^atise  on 
Psalm  51  is  exceedingly  rich  in  scriptural  quotations, 
and  full  of  passionate  yet  reverent  pleading  for  higher 
purity,  more  complete  consecration,  and  firmer  faith. 
It  throbs,  too,  with  yearning  concern  for  the  welfare 
of  the  Church,  that  its  walls  may  be  built  up,  and  that 
then  the  Lord  may  accept  the  sacrifices  of  righteous- 
ness. "  0  Lord,  how  many  sacrifices  we  offer  at  this 
day  which  are  not  acceptable  to  Thee,  but  rather 
abominable  I  For  we  offer  the  sacrifices  not  of  righte- 
ousness, but  of  our  own  ceremonial ;  therefore  are 
they  not  accepted  by  Thee.  Where  is  now  the  glory 
of  apostles  ?  Where  the  courage  of  martyrs  ?  Where 
the  fruit  of  preachers  ?  Where  the  holy  simplicity  of 
monks  ?  Where  the  virtues  and  works  of  the  early 
Christians  ?  Then  wilt  Thou  accept  their  sacrifices 
when  Thou  shalt  adorn  them  with  Thy  grace  and 
virtues.  If,  moreover.  Thou  wilt  favourably  regard 
Sion  in  Thy  good  pleasure,  then  shalt  Thou  accept  the 


244  SAVONAROLA 

sacrifice  of  righteousness,  because  the  people  will  begin 
to  live  well,  and  to  keep  Thy  commandments  and  to  do 
righteousness,  and  Thy  blessing  shall  be  upon  them. 
Then  the  offerings  of  the  priests  and  the  clergy  will  be 
acceptable  to  Thee,  because  forsaking  earthly  things 
they  will  gird  themselves  unto  a  purer  life ;  and  the 
unction  of  Thy  blessing  shall  be  upon  their  heads. 
Then  will  the  whole  burnt-offerings  of  the  religious  be 
acceptable  to  Thee  when,  forsaking  sloth  and  luke- 
warmness,jthey^sha]liie  perfectp^iiri- every  part  by  the 
flame  ^  Divine  love.  .  .  .  T^^ishall  Thy  Church 
Eondah  ;  then  shall  she  extend  her  borders  ;  then  shall 
Thy  praise  resound  from  the  ends  of  the  earth ;  then 
shall  joy  and  gladness  fill  the  world ;  then  shall  the 
saints  be  joyful  in  glory,  then  shall  they  rejoice  in 
their  beds,  while  they  wait  for  Thee  in  the  land  of  the 
living.  Let  that  then  be  made  now  unto  me,  Lord,  I 
beseech  Thee,  that  Thou  mayest  have  mercy  on  me 
according  to  Thy  great  mercy,  that  Thou  mayest  accept 
me  for  a  sacrifice  of  righteousness,  for  an  offering  of 
holiness,  for  the  whole  burnt-offering  of  a  religious  life, 
for  the  young  bullock  of  Thy  Cross,  whereby  God 
grant  that  I  may  deserve  to  pass  from  this  vale  of 
misery  to  that  glory  which  Thou  hast  prepared  for 
them  that  love  Thee." 

In  the  exposition  of  Psalm  31  he  speaks  of  his  pwn 
depression  and  despair,  and  tells  how  hope  has  come  to 
^^Iieve  Kmil  "  Heaviness  hath  besieged  me,  with  a 
great  and  strong  host  hath  hedged  me  in,  she  hath 
oppressed  my  heart  with  clamours  and  with  weapons, 
day  and  night  she  ceaseth  not  to  fight  against  me.  My 
friends  are  in  her  camp,  and  are  become  mine  enemies. 
Whatsoever  I  see,  whatsoever  I  hear,  they  bring  the 


THE  TRAGIC  CLOSE  245 

banners  of  Heaviness.  The  memory  of  friends 
saddens  me  ;  the  remembrance  of  my  children  grieveth 
me ;  the  thought  of  cloister  and  of  cell  tortures  me ; 
when  I  think  upon  my  own  studies,  it  affects  me  with 
sadness;  the  consideration  of  my  sins  weigheth  me 
down.  For  even  as  to  those  sick  of  a  fever  all  sweet 
things  seem  bitter,  even  so  to  me  all  things  seem 
changed  to  mourning  and  heaviness.  Verily  a  great 
weight  upon  the  heart  is  this  heaviness ;  the  poison  of 
asps,  a  deadly  pestilence,  murmurs  against  God,  ceases 
not  to  blaspheme,  exhorts  to  desperation.  Unhappy 
that  I  am,  who  shall  deliver  me  from  her  unhallowed 
hands  ?  If  all  things  which  I  see  and  hear  follow  her 
banners  and  fight  stoutly  against  me,  who  shall  be  my 
protector  ?  Who  shall  succour  me  ?  Whither  shall  I 
go  ?  How  shall  I  escape  ?  I  know  what  to  do  :  I  will 
turn  me  to  things  unseen,  and  will  lead  them  forth 
against  the  things  which  are  seen.  And  who  shall  be 
captain  of  an  host  so  high  and  so  terrible  ?  Hope, 
which  is  of  things  invisible ;  Hope,  I  say,  shall  come 
against  Heaviness  and  shall  put  her  to  rout.  Who 
shall  be  able  to  stand  against  Hope  ?  Hear  what  the 
prophet  saith,  Thou,  Lord,  art  my  Hope  ;  Thou  hast  set 
my  place  of  defence  very  high.  Who  shall  stand 
against  the  Lord  ?  Who  shall  be  able  to  storm  His 
place  of  refuge  which  is  very  high  ?  I  will  call  her, 
therefore,  and  she  will  make  haste  to  come,  and  will  not 
fail  me.  Lo,  she  hath  come  already ;  she  hath  brought 
gladness ;  she  hath  taught  me  to  fight,  and  hath  said 
unto  me.  Cry  aloud,  cease  not ;  and  I  say.  What  shall 
I  cry  ?  Say,  quoth  she,  boldly  and  with  all  thy  heart, 
*  In  Thee,  O  Lord,  have  I  hoped ;  I  shall  not  be  con- 
founded for  ever ;  in  Thy  righteousness  deliver  Thou 


246  SAVONAROLA 

me.'  0  wondrous  power  of  Hope,  whose  face  Heavi- 
ness could  not  abide.  Already  comfort  hath  come.  Now 
let  Heaviness  cry  aloud  and  assail  me  with  her  host ; 
let  the  w^orld  press  me  hard,  let  enemies  rise  against 
me ;  I  fear  nothing,  because  in  Thee,  Lord,  have  I 
hoped."  And  then  he  goes  on  to  expreri^  hJM  M\\inr 
"depTrn deuce  OP  hfvavenly  grace  in  words  which  Martin 
Luther  afterwards  claimed  as  a  foreshadowing  of  his 
own  doctrine  of  Justification  by  Faith.  "  I  will  hope 
in  the  Lord,  even  as  my  Hope  hath  taught  me  to  hope, 
and  I  shall  soon  be  delivered  from  all  my  troubles. 
By  what  merits  shall  I  be  delivered  ?  Not  mine 
own.  Lord,  but  in  Thy  righteousness  deliver  me.  In 
Thy  righteousness,  I  say,  not  my  own,  for  I  seek  for 
mercy ;  I  put  not  forward  my  owm  righteousness. 
But  if  by  grace  Thou  hast  rendered  me  just,  then  have 
I  Thy  righteousness  already.  The  Pharisees  placed 
confidence  in  works  of  righteousness ;  they  trusted  in- 
deed in  their  own  righteousness ;  and  therefore  did 
not  submit  themselves  to  the  righteousness  of  God,  for 
by  the  works  of  the  law  shall  no  flesh  be  justified  be- 
fore God.  But  the  righteousness  of  God  hath  appeared 
by  the  grace  of  Jesus  Christ,  even  without  the  works 
of  the  law." 

Thus  in  his  solitary  confinement,  high  up  in  the 
Palazzo  Vecchio  tower,  above  the  hum  and  clamour  of 
the  busy  Piazza,  the  fervent-souled  man,  forsaken  of 
friends  and  plntt^d  again, ^(.  by  foes,  was  wrapt  in 
lofty  contemplation ;  and  there,  in  the  long  and  lonely 
hours,  with  right  arm  bruised  by  the  tortures  he  had 
undergone,  he  struggled,  till  paper  was  denied  him,  to 
pen  a^j2gcord  _of_thfi.  thoughts  by  which.Jm-4elt  his 
heart  strengthened  and  inspired.      And  the  effort  was 


THE  TRAGIC  CLOSE  247 

not  in  vain.  Fo^JJj^two  expositions,  when  soon  after- 
wards  published,  were  received  with  extraordinary 
interegi.  Their^lBeauty  of  sentiment,  devoutness  of 
spirit,  and  glowing  warmth  of  spiritual  emotion,  ren- 
dered them  welcome  to  thousands  of  earnest  men  and 
women  everywhere,  who  were  yearning^  for  some  help- 
ful_  stimulus  and  nourishment  to  their  religious  life. 
Indeed,  the  eager  demand  for  those  last  words  of 
Savonarola  proved  that  the  chord  which  he  had  struck 
during  his  wonderful  ministry ,  though  not  responding 
so  loudly  as  once  it  did  to  his  touch,  was  still  really 
vibratino[_m  people's  hearts.  Within  two  years  after 
his  death,  twenty-one  editions  of  the  short  treatises 
were  issued,  and  before  the  middle  of  the  sixteenth 
century  translations  were  made  into  English,  Frei^ch, 
Ger^arw  SpanihSh,  an.d  the  vernacular  Ita.lian.  Even 
the  few  lines  embodying  a  Rule  for  Virtuous  Living, 
which  he  wrote  on  a  book-coverTt  the  request  of  his 
jnijftr,  whr^^P-  fiflTpptinn  hft  ha  A  wnn^  had  to  be  printed 
to  meet  a  widespread  desire. 

The  lull  in  the  storm  was  broken  on  the  19th  of 
May,  when  the  commissioners  of  the  Pope  made  their 
entry  into  Florence  with  great  circumstance  and 
ceremony,  and  amid  the  acclamations  of  a  thought- 
less mob,  who  encouraged  them  with  shouts  of  "  Death 
to  the  Friar  1 "  One  of  those  commissioners  was  Era 
Giovacchino  Tnx™^^;  Gp.ripral  of  _the^Dominican 
Order,  highly  esteemed  for  his  learning  and  wortli, 
and  a  former  friend  of  Savonarola.  The  other  was 
the  Span  ifih^  ^ oct^r,  ..^^^escg^ ^JRomolino,  an  official 
at  Jbhe  Roman jcourt,  and  eventually  a  cardinal,  a 
man  of  scandalous  life,  and  characterised  by  all  the 
mercilessness   of  an   inquisitor,  whose  very  presence 


248  SAVONAROLA 

in  connection  with  such  an  affair  was  itself  an  omen 
of  evil,  and  a  sure  guarantee  against  any  failure  of 
vigour  through  the  gentleness  which  his  colleague 
might  show.  In  fact,  Romolino  made  no  attempt  to 
conceal  that  he  had  come  to  condemn  Savonarola, 
not  to  judge  him ;  and  on  the  very  night  of  his 
arrival  in  the  city  he  is  reported  to  have  said  in 
boastful  levity,  "We  shall  have  a  fine  bonfire,  for  I 
have  the  sentence  of  condemnation  safe  in  my  pocket." 
Next  day  the  trial  began,  the  Papal  commissioners 
being  assisted  by  five  representatives  of  the  different 
bodies  of  Florentine  officials.  Ser  Ceccone,  despite 
the  clumsiness  of  his  former  services,  was  once  more 
called  in  to  exercise  his  manipulating  gifts,  with 
two  other  scribes,  however,  to  aid  him  in  his  nefarious 
task.  This  third  trial,  even  more  than  the  others 
that  preceded  it,  was  little  else  than  a  pretence. 
The  result  was  a  foregone  conclusion.  Savonarola 
was  from  the  first  treated  as  a  guilty  man,  and  the 
sole  aim  of  his  judges  was  to  compel  bim  to  confess 
.himself  guilty.  With  regard  to  his  endeavours  to 
obtam  the  calling  of  a  General  Council,  which  was 
the  head  and  front  of  his  offending,  he  was  long 
and  severely  questioned.  Every  means  was  used  to 
extract  from  him  information  as  to  his  confederates 
in  that  scheme,  which  was  held  to  be  so  fatally 
perilous  to  the  unity  of  the  Church ;  but  he  per- 
sistently declared  that  he  had  spoken  to  none  re- 
garding it  except  the  three  brothers,  Domenico, 
Silvestro,  and  Niccolo ;  that  he  had  not  taken  counsel 
with  any  of  the  princes  of  Italy  nor  any  of  the 
prelates  or  cardinals  on  the  subject ;  and  that  his 
hopes_were  placed  on  the  King  of  France,  the  Em- 


THE  TRAGIC  CLOSE  249 

peror,  the  King  of  Spain,  and  the  King  of  England. 
He  was  asked  whether  he  had  drawn  from  Fra 
Domenico  or  Fra  Silvestro  the  secrets  revealed  to 
them  in  the  confessional,  and  to  this  he  stoutly  and 
repeatedly  answered  that  he  had  never  done  any 
such  thing.  Then  Romolino,  who  appears  to  have 
assumed  the  leading  part  in  the  examination,  ordered 
him  to  be  stripped  for  the  rope,  and  told  him  to 
speak  the  truth,  the  whole  truth,  and  nothing  but 
the  truth.  The  prospect  of  the  terrible  agony  sent 
a  spasm  of  terror  through  his  shattered,  sensitive 
frame.  He  flung  himself  on  his  knees,  and  exclaimed, 
"  Magistrates  of^JFlorence,  bear  me  witness  that  I 
have  ^denied  my  light  from  fear  of  tortur^  if  I 
must  suffer  I  will  sutler  tor  the  truth ;  that  wliich 
I  have  said  I  have  hadT' f roHmod.  O  God,  grant 
that  I  may  repent  of  having  denied  _TKee  f oT^ear 
of  torture.  I  deserve  it."  Then  he  was  stripped. 
In  vain  he  sliowed  his  left  arm,  aUTwrencEed  and 
powerless — there  was  neither  ruth  nor  pity  to  be 
looked  for  now.  When  drawn  up  by  the  pulley,  he 
became  delirious.  "  O  Jesus,  help  me  ;  this  time  Thou 
hast  caught  me,"  he  cried ;  and  on  being  asked,  as 
he  hung,  why  he  said  this,  he  replied,  "  That  I  might 
be  thought  a  good  man.  Tear  me  no  more.  I  will 
tell  the  truth,  for  sure,  for  sure."  After  being  let 
down,  he  made  the  jjathetic  acknowledgment,  "  When 
I  see  the  instruments  of  torture  1  lose  myself ;  when 
I  am  in  a  room  with  a  few  men  who  deal  peaceably 
with  me  I  can  express  myself  better." 

The  next  day  there  was  another  examination,  and 
the  torture  was  renewed,  the  main  object  being  to 
wring  oul  of   lilm  more  particulars  as  to  the  affair 


2  50  SAVONAROLA 

of  the  General  Council,  and  specially  to  discover 
whether  his  old  friend  Cardinal  CarafFa  of  Naples 
had  been  implicated  in  the  design.  At  one  point, 
amid  the  frenzy  of  his  sufferings,  he  seemed  to  con- 
fess the  Cardinal's  cognisance  of  the  affair.  "  Naples  ! 
Naples  1 "  he  exclaimed,  "  I  consulted  also  with  him ; " 
but  when  relieved  from  the  racking  torment,  again 
he  protested  explicitly  that  the  responsibility  rested 
entirely  on  himself,  and  that  neither  the  Cardinal 
nor  any  other  was  concerned  in  the  scheme. 

Seeing  at  last  that  nothing  further  of  real  im- 
portance could  be  extracted  either  by  threats  or 
tortures,  Romolino  dismissed  him  with  the  command 
to  appear  on  the  morrow  to  receive  his  sentence. 
"  I  am  a  prisoner,"  Savonarola  replied,  "  I  will  come 
if  my  jailer  bring  me." 

On  the  22nd  of  May  the  fate  of  Savonarola  and 
his  companions  was  decided.  The  question  had  been 
discussed  in  a  meeting'of  officials,  where  one  man, 
Agnolo  Niccolini,  was  found  honest  enough  to  bear 
tcstimonyjo  the  Friars  Iftarnino;,  worfh  of  rTmrapfftr^ 
and  high  moral  influence,  and  generous  enough  to 
p1e?^]  for  the  prftservation  of  hij^  h'ff^  at  least,  that, 
though  in\]^risoned,  he  might  benefit  the  world  by 
his  writings.  But  this  witness  had  no  support  from 
his  colleagues.  Savonarola  alive,  they  retorted,  would 
be  a  danger  to  the  public  peace.  "  A  dead„  ejiemy 
makes  no  more  war."  The  judges  and  commissioners 
had  their  consultation  also,  and  they  resolved  on 
passing^  a  -sentence  of  death.  That  such  a  sentence 
had  been  deliberaleTjTcontem plated  from  the  outset 
is  only  too  clear  from  the  whole  course  of  procedure ; 
and  the   main   object   of  the   three   successive   trials 


THE  TRAGIC  CLOSE  251 

had  been  to  obtain  a  sufficiently  ostensible  warrant 
for  pronouncing  it.  That  warrant,  it  was  held,  had 
hftp.n  fouod^  in_Saypnarola's  crime  in  risking  a  dis- 
astrous schism  in  the  Church  and  consequent  disorder 
in  societ^by  his  General  Council  scheme;  in  his 
disobedience  to  the  authority  of  the  J:^ope  by  setting 
at  nought  the  decree  of  excommunication ;  and  in 
the  political  and  civil  disco^-cjs  which  his  interference 
in  public  affairs  was  alleged  to  have  caused.  In  the 
excited  condition  of  feeling  at  the  time,  and  with 
a  party  in  power  implacably  bent  on  getting  a  dreaded 
obstacle  to  their  influence  out  of  the  way,  those 
grounds  sufficed  as  a  colourable  pretext  for  the  Friar's 
condemnation.  No  allowance  was  made  for  the 
strong  reasons  which  had  moved  Savonarola  to  act 
as  he  did — the  wholesale  bribery  and  notoriously 
immoral  life  of  Alexander  vi.,  by  persisting  in  which 
he  forfeited  his  right  to  dictate  in  the  sphere  of 
morals  and  religion.  The  Pope's  jurisdiction,  it  was 
maintained,  was  not  for  a  moment  to  be  questioned, 
however  unworthy  his  personal  character  might  be ; 
and  for  such  an  attitude  of  opposition  as  Savonarola 
had  presumed  to  take,  death  was  the  punishment 
inevitably  due.  The  Signory  in  office  endorsed  the 
decision,  as  being  in  harmony  with  their  views. 

The  two  other  friars  were  included  in  the  same  con- 
demnation. Romolino,  indeed,  suggested  that  the  life 
of  Fra  Domenico  should  be  spared,  as  he  was  somewhat 
doubtfuT~as  to  the  prudence  of  executing  a  man  who 
was  still  in  great  tavour  with  a  large  "Action  of 
the  citizens]  Fra  JJomenico,  lie  was  immediately 
told,  would  keep  alive  the  doctrines  of  Fra  Girolamo. 
"  Ah,   well,"  he   responded,   "  a   wretched    friar   more 


252  SAVONAROLA 

or  less  makes  little  difference;  put  him  to  death, 
then." 

The  sentence  was  at  once  published  in  the  city,  and 
duly  announced  to  the  three  condemned  men  that  even- 
ing. Fra  SilVestro  was  completely  overwhelmed  by 
the  intelligence.  He  had  neither  the  courage  of  the 
martyr  nor  the  resignation  of  the  saint.  Fra  Domenico, 
with  his  warm,  loyal  heart,  was  filled  with  joy  at  the 
thought  of  sharing  the  same  fate  as  his  master,  and  on 
being  told,  in  answer  to  his  inquiry  as  to  the  manner 
of  death  to  be  adopted,  that  he  and  the  others  were  to 
be  hanged  first  and  then  burnt,  he  pleaded  that  he 
might  be  burnt  alive,  and  thereby  give  fuller  proof  of 
his  devotion.  Savonarola  was  on  his  knees  in  prayer 
when  the  messenger  entered.  He  received  the  news  of 
his_^ntence  with  calm  resignation.  The  worst  bitter- 
ness had  passed ;  he  had  gone  through  his  Gethsemane 
in  some  of  the  solitary  hours  he  had  first  spent  in  that 
narrow  prison-cell,  when  the  sting^__^  Tgection  and 
of  apparently  baffled  endeavour  pierced  hiS  soul,  and 
he  had  faced  in  thought  the  awful  crisis  which  he  saw 
approaching ;  and  so,  having  already  drunk  the  keenest 
drop  in  the  cup  of  his  agony,  when  informed  that  he 
must  be  prepared  to  die  on  the  following  morning, 
he  offered  no  remark,  but  quietly  resumed  his  broken 
prayer. 

Soon  he  was  joined  in  his  lonel}^  vigil  by  a  good  man, 

.Tn.P.Opn  IVicCOlini,  a  ^^J^lb^^f  ^^^   P-fltt^lt^'   bvnfV.nvV.r>r>rl 

whose  self-imposed  task  it  was  to  ^attend  and  comfort 
the  doomed  in  their  last  hours.  With  face  veiled,  and 
robed  m  black  from  hea3~tO  foot,  he  came  to  minister 
consolation  to  a  brother-man  in  his  adversity.  "  I  do 
not  come,"  he  said,  "  to  urge  resignation  on  one  who  has 


THE  TRAGIC  CLOSE  253 

converted  a  whole  people  to  virtue."  "  Do  your  duty," 
was  Savonarola's  simple  reply.  He  had  only  one  re- 
quest to  make,  and  that  was,  that  his  kindly  visitor 
should  procure  for  him  the  favour  of  a  brief  interview 
with  his  two  brethren  before  death.  Niccolini  set  out 
on  his  errand,  and  after  some  difficulty  gained  the 
Signory's  consent.  It  was  arranged  that  the  interview 
should  take  place  in  the  hall  of  the  Greater  Council, — 
the  magnificent  chamber  which  had  been  erected  as  an 
addition  to  the  Palazzo  Vecchio  through  the  patriotic 
efforts  of  Savonarola  in  the  great  days  of  his  popularity 
and  power ;  and  under  its  spacious  roof,  amid  the  gloom 
of  falling  night,  the  three  friars  met  again  after  six 
weeks  of  separation,  during  which  they  had  undergone 
an  experience  of  weary  imprisonment  and  excruciating 
torture  that  had  twisted  their  limbs,  sapped  their 
strength,  and  rent  their  hearts  with  sorrow.  Both 
Fra  Domenico  and  Fra  Silvestro  had  been  made  aware 
of  the  master's  supposed  confession,  but  once  more  in 
his  presence,  and  looking  on  his  worn  but  serene  face, 
they  felt  the  old  spell  of  his  commanding  soul,  and  all 
doubt  vanished  from  their  minds.  Gently  he  reproved 
Fra  Domenico  for  his  desire  to  be  burnt  alive.  "  It  is 
not  given  to  any  one,"  he  said,  "  to  choose  the  manner 
of  his  own  death,  but  it  is  our  duty  only  to  take  with 
joy  the  death  which  God  may  provide  for  us.  Who 
knows  if  thou  couldst  undergo  the  death  thou  desirest, 
which  depends  not  upon  our  strength,  but  the  grace  of 
God  ?  man  should  never  tempt  God."  To  Fra  Silvestro 
he  turned  with  a  few  words  of  grave  yet  kindly  warn- 
ing. He  knew  that  this  brother  intended  to  speak  to 
the-pfioplajind  declare  his  innocence  from  the  scaffold, 
and  he  enjoined  him  to  abandon  the  idea.      "Thou 


2  54  SAVONAROLA 

shouldst  keep  thy  peace  like  Christ,  who,  though  in- 
nocent, yet  would  not  declare  His  innocence  even  on 
the  Cross."  In  reverent  silence  the  two  men  listened 
to  the  admonitions  thus  addressed  to  them,  and  then, 
humbly  kneeling  at  Savonarola's  feet,  they  received 
his  benediction,  and  were  led  away  to  their  separate 
cells.  In  his  own  cell  in  the  tower  Savonarola  had  the 
company  of  the  friendly  Niccolini  all  through  the 
hours  ~of^  that  last  night  on  earth.  Having  declined 
the  offer  of  food,  lest  the  clearness  of  his  mind  should 
be  disturbed,  he  was  soon  overcome  by  exhaustion,  and 
was  fain  to  ask^jffi£CQHGiio_aljJwJiim_laxesLhis 
oii_his  knee.  Thus  pillowed,  lying  down  on  the  floor, 
he  fell  asleep,  and  in  his  sleep  his  countenance  became 
serene  and  smiling  like  a  child's,  and  he  seemed  to  his 
wondering  companion  as  already  enjoying  a  glimpse  of 
the  eternal  blessedness.  Awaking  at  last,  he  was  full 
of  thankfulness  to  his  gentle  and  patient  comforter, 
and  opened  his  mind  to  him  regarding  the__troubles 
which  he  believed  to  be  in  store  for  Florence,  troubles 
which,  according  to  the  rather  doubtfuF  statement  of 
Burlamacchi,  he  predicted  would  come  to  pass  when 
fli^^rfi  aVimilrl  V>p  a.  ^Pnpp  npTed  Clement  .rulmg  at 
Rome. 

When  morning  broke,  Savonarola  and  the  two  con- 
demned brothers  were  permitted  to  meet  once  more  in 
the  sombre  little  chapel,  with  its  few  contracted  win- 
dows and  simple  furnishings,  on  the  third  floor  of  the 
Palazzo.  There,  while  the  crowd  was  already  begin- 
ning to  gather  in  the  broad  Piazza  outside,  and  the 
preparations  for  the  execution  were  going  on,  those 
three  men  celebrated  their  last  Sacrament  together, 
and  in  the  most  sacred  rites  of  relisfion  nerved  their 


THE  TRAGIC  CLOSE  255 

souls  for  the  fate  which  was  now  immediately  at  hand. 
The  finest  qualities^  of  Savonarola's  spirit  shone  forth 
in  that  solemn  houE  Raising" the  consecrated  Host, 
he  broke  out  into  fervent  prayer,  making  confession  of 
the  genuine  faith  of  his  heart.  "  Lord,  I  know  that 
Thou  art  that  very  God,  the  Creator  of  the  world  and 
of  human  nature.  I  know  that  Thou  art  that  perfect, 
indivisible,  and  inseparable  Trinity,  distinct  in  jhree 
Persons,  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Uhosi~  I  know  that 
Thou  art  that  Eternal  Word,  who  didst  descend  from 
heaven  to  earth  in  the  womb_of_tbft  yirgin  Mnry 
Thou  didst  ascend  the  wood  of  the  Cross  to  shed  Thy 
precious  Blood  for  us,  miserable  sinners.  I  pray  Thee, 
my  Lord ;  I  pray  Thee,  my  Salvation ;  I  pray  Thee, 
my  Consoler ;  that  such  precious  Blood  be  not  shed  for 
me  in  vain,  but  may  be  for  the  remission  of  all  my 
sins.  For  these  I  cratYe  Thy  pardon,  from  the  day  that 
I  received  the  water  of  Holy  Baptism  even  to  this 
moment ;  and  I  confess  to  The^,  J^ord,  my  guilt.  And 
so  I  crave  pardon  of  Thee  for  what  offences  I  have 
done  to  this  city  and  all  this  people,  in  things  spiritual 
and  temporal,  as  well  as  for  all  those  things  wherein 
of  myself  I  am  not  conscious  of  having  erred.  And 
humbly  do  I  crave  pardon  of  all  those  persons  who  are 
here  standing  round.  May  they  pray  to  God  for  me, 
and  may  He  make  me  strong  up  to  the  last  end,  so 
that  the  enemy  may  have  no  power  over  me.  Amen." 
Then  he  and  his  companions  took  the  Holy  Communion ; 
and  they  were  still  devoutly  kneeling  in  silent  medita- 
tion when  the  guards  came  to  lead  them  out  to  their 
doom.  As  they  descended  the  stairs  to  the  scene  of  exe- 
cution, Savonarola  spoke  a  few  words  of  encouragement 
to  Fra  Silvestro ;  "  We  shall  soon  be  there  where  we 


2  56  SAVONAROLA 

can  sing  with  David,  '  Behold  how  good  and  pleasant 
it  is  for  brethren  to  dwell  together  in  unity.' " 

A  mighty  concourse  was  waiting  in  the  Piazza  della 
Signoria,  trembling  with  eagerness,  yet  for  the  most 
part  awed  and  subdued.  The  citizens  of  Florence 
could  not  quite  forget  what  the  chief  victim,  whose 
death  they  had  come  to  w^itness,  had  been.  Many  of 
them  had  chafed  under  his  rigid  moral  restrictions ; 
many  were  opposed  to  him  politically ;  many  were  de- 
termined to  break  his  power ;  but  there  were  thausMlds 
whose  hearts  had  been  cheered  and  strengthened  by 
his__teaching,  who  had  found  an  inspiration-fox  their 
livesjn  his  holy  zeal,  and  who,  though  staggered  and 
perplexed  by  his  failure  to  substantiate  his  prophetic 
mission  in  the  way  they  expected,  were  conscious  of  a 
mysterious  sense  of  his  greatness  still  haunting  their 
thoughts.  Many  besides  were  there  whose  loyalty  and 
faith  had  never  faltered,  and  who  cherished  a  secret 
hope  that  some  sign  might  yet  be  given  to  attest  their 
revered  leader  as  the  messenger  of  God. 

Again,  as  in  the  arrangements  for  the  ordeal  by  fire, 
a  long  narrow  platform  stretched  out  from  the  corner 
of  the  Palazzo  Vecchio  for  some  distance  across  the 
square.  In  this  case,  however,  the  platform  ended  in 
a  circular  area  on  which  a  pile  of  fuel  was  heaped,  and 
above  this  rose  the  gibbet,  with  its  three  halters  and 
three  chains — the  latter  to  hold  the  bodies  suspended 
after  the  fuel  had  been  fired.  The_^^bet,  an  upright 
beam  with  projecting  arms,  looked  so  like  a  cross,  that 
the  adherents  of  Savonarola  were  heard  loudly  mur- 
muring, "  They^.axe  going  to  crucify  him  like  his 
Master ;  "  and  one  arm  had  to  be  cut  short  to  destroy 
the  comparison. 


THE  TRAGIC  CLOSE  257 

Three  tribunals  had  been  erected  on  the  Palace  bal- 
cony, between  the  doorway  and  the  platform — one  for 
the  pre^idingjbishop,  another  for  the  Papal^commjs- 
sioners,  and  a  third  for  the  Gonfalaniere  and  thf^  Eight, 
whose  function  it  was  to  give  the  final  order  for 
death. 

When  the  three  condemned  friars,  on  coming  down 
from  the  chapel,  reached  the  Palace  steps,  they  were 
met  by  a  Dominican  of  Santa  Maria  Novella,  who 
commanded  them  to  be  stripped  of  their  monastic 
robes ;  and  so  they  emerged  into  view  wearing  only 
their  woollen  tunics,  with  feet  bare  and  hands  bound 
behind.  They  were  then  taken  before  the  first  tribunal, 
where  the  Bishop  of  Vasona,  an  old  disciple  of  Savon- 
arola, sat  in  charge,  painfully  ill  at  ease  in  fulfilling  the 
duty  laid  upon  him.  There  they  were  again  clad  in 
their  religious  vestments,  and  again  stripped  in  token 
of  their  formal  degradation.  While  this  ceremony  was 
being  performed,  the  Bishop  took  Savonarola  by  the 
arm,  and  in  the  confusion  of  the  moment  stammered 
out,  "  I  separate  thee  from  the  Church  militant— and 
ti'iuiQphjjit?^/^Ty  ilitant^  in  cor- 

rection ;  "  not  triumphant ;  that  is^not  in  youn^towei*." 
"  Amen,"  said  the  Bishop,  "  may  God  lead  you  there." 
Then,  in  their  bare  woollen  tunics  once  more,  they 
passed  to  the  next  tribunal,  where  the  Pope's  commis- 
sioners read  out  their  sentence,  which  condemned  them 
as  "heretics,  schismatics,  and  despisers  of  the  Holy 
See,"  and  ordered  them  to  be  delivered  over  to  the 
secular  arm.  When  the  reading  was  finisEe^  Ruirtelkio 
addedT^His  SoJjjicas^ispleased  to  freeyou,from  the 
pains  of  purg:atory  by  granting  you  aplenary  indul- 
-S;^££§i-  ^^  you  accept  itT'  They  bowed  their  heads 
17 


258  SAVONAROLA 

in  sign  of  assent.  At  the  third  tribunal,  where  the 
civil  authorities  sat,  they  heard  their  sentence  con- 
firmed, and  the  death^penalty  formally  decreed — th^t 
they  should  be  hanged  and  then  burnt,  "  so  that  their 
souls  should  be  entirely  separated  from  their  bodies." 

Thus,  disrobed,  degraded^  doomed  Jo _death,  they 
moved  onwards  to  the  scaffold,  at  first  in  silent  prayer, 
and  then  reciting  the  Te  Beum  in  an  undertone  together. 
As  they  passed  along  the  roughly-constructed  platform, 
their  naked  feet  were  pierced  by  sharp  stakes  thrust 
through  the  gaps  between  the  planks  by  loose  youths 
among  the  crowd.  All  round,  in  the  space  nearest  to 
the  platform,  a  wild  rabble  had  collected,  drawn  from 
the  worst  elements  of  the  population,  and  their  spiteful 
insults,  curses,  and  jeers  formed  a  rude  contrast  to  the 
subdued  demeanour  of  the  multitude  that  filled  the 
.SQiiafe.  Amid  all  the  mockery "aiid  violence,  however, 
expressions  of  sympathy  were  not  wanting.  Some  one 
held  out  food  and  pressed  it  on  Savonarola  to  strengthen 
him,  but  he  merely  replied,  "  Why  do  you  offer  me 
these  things,  since  I  am  now  to  depart  this  life  ? " 
Another  tried  to  comfort  him  by  referring  to  the  good 
works  he  had  done.  "  God.only,"  he  said,  "  can  console 
men  in  their  last  hour."  A  friendly  priesF"near  by 
asked  him,  "  With  what  spirit  do  you  bear  this 
martyrdom  ? "  "  My  Saviour,"  was  his  answer,  "  will- 
ingly died  for  me,  and  should  not  I  w^illingly  give  up 
this  poor  body  out  of  love  to  Him  ? " 

At  the  foot  of  the  scaffold  they  all  kneeled,  each  one 
before  his  crucifix.  Fra  Silvestro  was  the  first  called 
on  to  suffer.  He  mounted"the  steps  firmly,  for  strength 
had  come  to  him  at  last,  and  with  the  words,  "  Lord, 
into  Thy  hands  1  commend  my  spirit,"  he  gave  his  neck 


THE  TRAGIC  CLOSE  259 

to  the  halter.  Fra  Domenico  followed,  and  with  beam- 
ing face  went  to  his  death  as  to  a  festival.  Last  of  all 
came  Savonarola,  who  had  remained  kneeling  in  pro- 
found thought  while  the  execution  of  his  companions 
was  going  on.  Calm,  resolute,  with  faith  strong  in 
God  and  in  the  work  which  God  had  given  him  to  do, 
he  mounted  the  scaffold,  and  for  a  moment  cast  his 
eyes  round,  and  looked  the  multitude  in  the  face. 
Often  hadhe  appealed  to  those  people  and  stirred  their 
hearts  "by  hiF eloquence  and^power  ;  but^all  thought  of 
appealing  to  them  was  abandoned  now.  Sorrowing  for 
Florence7^he~^as  utterly  resigned  as  to  his  own  fate. 
In  that  last  glance  he  saw  the  vast  throng  awed  into 
silence,  the  flash  of  thousands  of  eyes  intent  on  wit- 
nessing his  death,  and,  immediately  beneath,  the  glare 
of  torches  burning,  ready  to  fire  the  fuel  in  which  his 
body  would  be  consumed.  Yet  there  was  no  word  of 
remonstrance ;  he  stood  there  to  meet  his  end  at  peace 
with  himself,  and  in  perfect  charIty^JwitE2^^,  men. 
Amid  tKeTiusE~oTsuspense  which  fell  as  the  halter  was 
thrown  over  his  neck  and  he  was  swung  into  the  air, 
one  harsh  voice  broke  in  with  the  derisive  shout, 
"  Now,  prophet,  is  the  time  to  work  a  miracle."  And, 
indeed,  the  expectation  of  a  supernatnra.1  wftndftr  was 
^J^  still  present  in  many  minds. 

As  soon  as  life"^was  extinct  the  pile  of  faggots  was 
lighted,  but  a  gust  gf  ^Y^prl  hi  aw  f.ViA  flq,mp«  nairlp  and 
for  some  little  while  it  seemed  as  if  the  vaguely  looked- 
for  prodigy  had  appeared.  ''^  mirflplp,  ^L-IIHIfilLs ' '' 
was  the  cry  of  many  in  their  excitement,  as  they  drew 
back  startled  at  the  sight.  The  wind  ceased,  and  the 
flames  leaped  up  and  enveloped  the  suspended  bodies 
The  cords  which  bound  Savonarola's  arms  were  soon 


26o  SAVONAROLA 

consumed,  and  the  scorching  heat  caused  his  right  hand 
to  make  a  convulsive  movement  which  arrested  atten- 
tion. He  was  raising  it,  ^aId~hisTaTEEHTTollowerSj  in 
theact  of  blessing  the  people  who  "hadnefuelly'hasBened 
his  end. 

f-^hus,  at  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning  of  23rd  May 
^498,  died  the~great  preacher  of  Florence.  wHoTLad 
/held  a  commanding  place  in  the  mind  of  his  generation 
as  a  saiat_of  exceptional  purity,  a  devoted^  moral  and 
religious  reformer,  a  powerful^political  leader,  a  daring 
and  independjantjhmker,  a  prophetic  messenger  of  the 
Almighty.  He  was  just  in  the  middle  period  of  his 
manhood — f oyty-five  j^^^rs,  of  age.  High  as  his  aims 
were,  and  disinterested  as  were  his  motives,  he  had 
attempted  a  task  which  drew  upon  him  opposition 
from  many  quarters  and  in  many  forms,  and  he  fell  a 
victim  to  the  hostility  he  had  raised.  His  ashes  were 
flung  into  the  Arno.  Yile  calumnies  were  heaped  on 
his  name ;  his  foes  congratulated  one  another  on  his 
destruction.  Yet  the  men  and  women  who  believed  in 
him  still — and  they  were  much  more  numerous  than 
on  the  surface  appeared — cherished  his  memory  and 
clung  to  his  teaching  with  pious  reverence.  They 
gathered  every  relic  of_h.im  they  could  possibly  find  ; 
they  came  often  to  pray  at  the  spot  where  he  perished ; 
they  deposited  flowers  there^every  year  on  the  anni- 
versary of  his  death  ;  and  the  practice  was  taken  up  by 
devout  souls  in  succeeding  generations,  and  continued 
unbroken  for  two  centuries  or  more.  His  books  w^^-p 
eagerly  read  ;  the  details  of  his  life  were  industriously 
collected ;  and  ardent  disciples  found  a  pious  joy  in 
giving  a  record  of  his  career  and  work  to  the  world. 


CHAPTER   XXV 

Review 

As  in  the  case  of  many  a  distinguished  man  called  to 
perform  a  difficult  work  in  difficult  times,  and  failing 
to  carry  the  objects  he  aimed  at  to  full  visible  success, 
the  reputation  of  Savonarola  has  suffered  from  the 
shadow  cast  upon  it  by  his  failure.  His  real  greatness 
has  been  obscured,  not  so  mucTi  by  the  melancholy 
tragedy  of  his  death,  as  by  the  troubles  and  animos- 
ities which  beset  him  in  his  later  days,  and  which  to 
a  lamentable  degree  cramped  his  usefulness  and  power. 
Those  fatal  embarrassments  were  due  to  several  causes, 
which,  though  already  touched  upon  in  the  course  of 
the  narrative,  may  appropriately  be  summed  up  here. 

1.  He  accepted  a  position  which  was  too  complicated 
to  maintain.  Jn  the  attempt  he  made  to  CQjiihine_the 
role  of  political  director  with  that  of  religious  teacher 
and  reformer,  he  undertook  a  task  which,  by  very 
necessity,  involved  him  in  meshes  of  perplexing 
entanglement.  The  exigencies  of  the  times  were  such 
that  in  his  political  action  he  was  forced  to  identify 
himself  with  a  particular  party  in  the  State,  and,  as  a 
consequence,  the  interests  of  his  religious  work  were 
mixed  up  with  that  party's  rising  or  falTmg  forluiKia'. 
It   was  not   in   the  nature  "oF  things  that  lie  should 

261 


262  SAVONAROLA 

continue  for  long  to  control  the  government  of  the 
State  from  the  pulpit  without  incurring  for  his 
doctrines,  his  reforming  efforts,  and  his  own  person, 
the  full  brunt  of  partisan  enmity  and  intrigue.  The  > 
service  he  rendered  Mbo  Florence  in  framing  its  consti-^^ 
tution  after  the  expulsion  of  the  Medici,  was  invaluable. 
It  was  a  service  thrust  upon  him  by  a  pressure  of  circum- 
stances which  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  withstand ; 
he  was  the  only  man  of  any  influence  in  Florence  who 
had  a  welLidafined.  enlightened,  practicable_form  of^ 
government  to  propose,  and  his  success  m  securing  its 
adoption  was  flattering  in  the  highest  degree.  Uil- 
fortunately,  however,  having  once  been  drawn  so 
prominently  into  the  sphere  of  politics,  h^  o.oulrl  not 
restrain  himself  from  endeavouring  more  or  less  to 
regulate  the  actual  working  oF  tFe  political  machinery 
heJiadorg;anised!  TL^his  was~one  of  the~rocKs~on  which 
the  lofty  usefulness  of  his  career  was  split.  A  factigus 
Dpposition  was  arousad,  which,  increasing  always  in 
bitterness  and  vehemence,  broke  down  his  sway  as  a 
religious  teacher,  and  contributed  to  his  destruction 
when  the  fitting  opportunity  arrived.  Moreover,  the 
difficulties  thus  occasioned  were  aggravated  by  the 
collision  into  which  his  political  action  brought  him 
with  the  Pope,  whose  implacable  resentment  he  incurred 
by  standing  between  him  and  his  favourite  policy  of 
drawing  Florence  into  the  Holy  League. 

2.  He  imposed  a  restraint  which  inevitably  provoked 
revolt.  Well-meant  and  laudable  as  most  of  his  regu- 
lations for  the  reform  of  manners  were,  Savonarola 
committed  the  mistake  of  enforcing  their  observance 
by  measures  61  undue  severity.  Prince  Schwartzenberg 
was  right  when  he  said,  "  You  can  do  anything  with 


REVIEW  263 

bayonets  except  sit  on  them."  That  was  a  terse, 
picturesque  statement  of  the  truth  that  the  enforce- 
ment of  rigid  rules  by  means  correspondingly  rigid  is 
a  peEiiourexperiment.  On  that  experiment  Savonarola 
ventured,  and  the  hostility  which  latterly  crippled  his 
work  and  compassed  his  downfall  was  largely  owing 
to  the  rebellious  feeling  stirred  up  thereby. 

8.  He  assumed  aprerogative  wjiich  it  wj^S-hazard- 
ous  to  exercise!  By  the  claim  to  direct  supernatural 
ilLuinmaiion  which  he  asserted  so  persistently,  though 
with  sincere  enough  intent,  Savonarola  fostered  a 
strong  delusion  in  the  popular  mind ;  and  when  that 
delii^on  was  shattered  by  the  disappointment  in  con- 
nection  with  the  ordeal  byfiFe,  he  lost  a  powerful  body 
of  .support,  and  was  left  helplessly  exposed  to  the 
political  and  ecclesiastical  enmities  that  were  conspiring 
to  ruin  him. 

In  brief,  Savonarola's  action  in  politics  drew  upon 
him  the  rancour  of  opposing  factions  in  the  Republic 
and  of  the  Pope  at  Rome.  The  ascetic  rigour  of  his 
reforms  kindled  resentments,  deep  and  fierce.  His 
honest  but  mistaken  zeal  in  insisting  on  his  prophetic 
and  supernatural  gifts  excited  expectations  which  he 
could  not  possibly  fulfil,  and  which,  when  baffled, 
created  an  irritation  fatally  damaging  to  his  influence 
and  prestige. 

Such  were  the  circumstances  which  have  cast  a 
shadow  over  the  real  greatness  of  Savonarola.  Never 
theless,  the  greatness  was  there,  and  had  been  un- 
mistakably proved — the  splendjjintellectual  capacity, 
the  firm  grasp  of  knowledge,  penetrating  insi^hj^  wide 
sweep   of  thought,   lofty  devotion— oL-Smilv  bold  and 


eon 
iveri 


powerful  personality.     And  the  force  of  his  exalted 


y 


264  SAVONAROLA 

endowments  was  heightened  by  the  passionate  earnest- 
ness of  his  nature,  his  unfaltering  faith  in  the  eternal 
majesty  of  righteousness,  the  high  moral  aims  by  which 
he  was  fired.  Though  foiled,  by  the  confusions  of  a 
■dCoaampt  transitional  age,  in  accomplishing  all  the  ends 
tor  which  he  strove,  and  though  struck  down  by  the 
very  opposition  which  his  high-purposed  efforts  had 
awakened,  such  a  man  was  bound  to  exert  an  influence 
of  no  ordinary  character  on  the  mind  and  life  of  the 
world.  The  moral  enthusiasm  he  infused  into  the 
nobler  spirits  of  his  time  lived  on  after  him.  He 
turned  men's  thoughts  to  the  great  living  problems  of 
existence  ;  and  in  numberless  cases  where  his  opinions 
were  disowned  and  his  peculiar  work  slighted,  the 
mental  incentive  received  from  his  preaching  and 
writings  impelled  men  to~pursue  the  track  of  inquiry 
in  the  new  direction  to  which  his  venturesome  genius 
had  poinded:  To  a  great  extent  he  rescued  the  New 
Xiearninj^in  Florence  and  throughout  Italy  from  the 
barren  and  frivolous  uses  to  which  it  was  being  applied, 
and  he  did  it  by  the  conception,  wnicn^'^was  always 
prominent  in  his  teaching,  of  the  vital  relation  which 
all  learning  has  to  the  larger  and  more  stirring  interests 
of  life.  Vxhus  the  work  which  tlj^  Humanists  of  the 
Renaissance  were  doing  in  quickening  the  free  activity 
of  the  spirit  of  man,  Savonarola  lifted  to  a  region 
calculated  to  afford  results  more  directly  beneficial  to 
,  the  progress  and  elevation  of  humanity.  Again,  the 
testimony  which  by  word  and  example  he  bore  for  the 
freedom  of  the  human  soul  against  political  despotism 
on  the  one  hand,  and  unbending  ecclesiastical  officialism 
on  the  other,  had  effects  which  lasted  far  beyond  the 
term  of  his  own  brief  career.A     Though  himself  finally 


REVIEW  265 

crushed,  a  martyr  to  the  work  which  he  felt  laid  upon 
him  by  the  will  of  the  Almighty,  he  broke  open  a  path 
by  which  others  could  advance  and  the  world  move 
forward  to  a  better  day.  Society  was  waking  up,  but 
was  restless,  uncertain,  easily  misled  ;  he  gave  voice  to 
the  vague  aspirations  of  his  time,  fed  and  strengthened 
all  that  was  best  in  them,  put  them  into  definite  form, 
and  revealed  the  lines  along  which  the  struggle  should 
be  made  if  their  realisation  was  ever  to  be  reached. 

/a  particularly  important  factor  in  Savonarola's  in- 
fluetice  as  an  epoch-maker  was  the  fresh,  arresting 
light  he  threw  on  the  essential  vjilnA^for  tViA  good  of 
the  world  of  practical  Christian  morality.:  This,  in  fact,' 
was  his  supreme  idea,  which  he  held  up  and  flashed 
on  men's  minds  in  every  sermon,  book,  or  pamphlet, 
whether  he  dealt  with  religious,  political,  or  social 
themes^  It  wa^gjn  the  interests  of  Christian  morality 
that  he  prized  his  positioi^  ««  thp.  p.hip.f  pr^aphpr  in 
Florence,  and  that  he  was  induced  to  enter  the  arena 
of  political  atfairs.  And  his  enthusiasm  for  this  object 
it  was  which  inspired  his  dream  of  converting  Florence 
inf,n  fl.  \^^nnrii.o.Y  Many  of  his  reforming  measures,  as 
has  been  seen,  collapsed.  In  the  impetuousness  of 
his  zeal  he  fell  into  mistakes  as  to  the  methods  and 
means  by  which  the  end  he  sought  could  be  attained. 
But  the  great  idea  itself  —  the^  idea  of  practical 
righteousness,  justice,  purity,  and  good-doing,  as  the 
fundamental  conditions  of  well-being  in  the  Church 
and  the  State,  in  social  and  private  life — was  so 
strikingly  presented  and  pressed,  that  it"  laid  hold  of 
men's  inmost  convictions,  and  gave  to  the  moral  sense 
of  that  generation  a  stimulus  which  was  passed  on,  to 
stir  to   higher  moral   life  the  generations  following. 


266  SAVONAROLA 

V 
/Perhaps,  after  all,  Savonarola's  most  distinctive ^con- 

/  tribution  to  the  progress  of  the  WQjjiLjg^as  jthejnoral 
passion  he  inspired — the  feeling  he  awakened  in  a 
Bordid,  pagan  age  of  the  great  ejidjl  of  life,  of  the 
fieeds  and  claims  of  man's  immortal  nature,  of  the 
i^lory  of  truth  and  the  noble  endeavour  for  right, 
that  passion  was  in  himself ;  it  throbbed  through  the 
sermons  he  preached,  and  through  the  writings  he  left 
behind  him.  And  it  freshened  men's  thinking;  it 
qiiiVJ£ftn^d^h^j2in]gf^  pf  th^ir  -w^hnlp  mental  being;  it 
forced  on  them  a  new  standard  of  judgment ;  it  fired 
them  with  visions  of  higher  stages  of  good  for 
humanity,  and  nerved  them  to  strain  forward  to  the 

\      untold  possibilities  of  the  future. 

Thus  Savonarola  stood  at  the  dawn  of  a  new  era, 

and   roused   men's   minds  to  move  on  and  grasp  its 

larger  interests,  and  share  its  freer  and  more  vivid 

activities.     So  far,  no  doubt,  he  was  still  clogged  by 

V^he  trammels  of  mediaeval  tradition,  mediaeval  asceti- 

v^isms  and   Rnpftrstitjons,    mpdiaRvar  scholasticism   and 

/^pedantry,  mediaeval  conceptions  of  the  supernatural. 

Yet    he   was   alive   and    a.wa.kp.   with    q,   new   spirit  of 

enterprise,  panting  to  strike  out  on  bolder,  freer  lines 

of  thought,  and  to  find  fresh  paths  of  effort  for  the 

"'^-'-v^highest  human  energies.  He  was  like  one  of  those 
figures  to  be  seen  in  old  pictures  of  the  Resurrection 
at  the  Last  Judgment — half-risen  and  erect,  with 
eyes  eagerly  turned,  and  arms  uplifted,  towards  the 
new  light  of  life,  but  with  feet  still  bound  and  clasped 
in  the  encumbering  earth,  and  not  yet  perfectly  free. 
Hampered  though  he  was  by  the  crude  ideas  and 
habits  amid  which  he  had  grown  up,  Savonarola  jn^ 
certain  outstanding^  pm'rtp  was  in  advance  of  his  age. 


REVIEW  267 

In  his  determined  testimony  on  behalf  of  the  inde- 
pendence  of  the  human  consnienp.ft.  in  his  flissei-tion 
of  every  man's  right  to  question  all  aaithority  not 
based  on  justice  and  rectitude,  and  in  his  insistence  on 
the  Christian  moral  Ideal  as  the  supreme  rule  in  all 
departments  of  private  and  public  life,  he  took  up  a 
positionwhich  was  novel  and  unfamiliar  to  the  men 
of  That  day.  And  he  had  to  suffer  the  penalties  of 
originality,  penalties  that  came  upon  him  with  quicker 
stroke  and  heavier  force  by  reason  of  his  very  courage 
and  sincerity.  Had  he  been  less  daring  or  less 
honest,  more  inclined  to  trim  and  temporise,  he  might 
have  escaped  many  of  the  troubles  which  combined  so 
tragically  to  end  his  career.  Had  he  been  less  im- 
patient to  see  his  ideas  and  the  new  order  he  looked 
for  established  in  actual  fact,  he  might  have  avoided 
the  most  fatal  of  the  mistakes  into  which  he  was 
betrayed.  But  the  moral  strenuousness  of  his  temper 
could  not  be  repressed ;  it  urged  him  on,  regardless  of 
all  prudential  cautions.  And  when  the  storm  burst  on 
him  and  wrought  his  death,  it  was  his  own  intrepid, 
uncompromising  loyalty  to  the  high  purpose  of  his 
life,  .and  to  what  he  believed  to  be  the  cause  of 
human  progress,  that  brought  it  down  in  such 
overwhelming  fury.  For,  in  George  Eliot's  words, 
"  power  rose  ag^ainst  him  not  because  of  his  sins,  but 
because~ot  his  greatness— not  because  he  sou£>-ht  to 
deceive  the  world,  but  because  he  sought  to  make  it 
nobleT'  — - 

TTwould  be  vain  to  conceal  or  minimise  his  limita- 
tions and  his  errors ;  and  there  is  no  need  to  make  the 
attempt  in  order  to  establish  his  claim  to  generous 
recognition.     The  place  he  filled  in  the  life   of  his 


268  SAVONAROLA 

generation,  the  breath  of  fresh  vitality  he  introduced 
into  human  thought,  and  the  invigorating  impetus  he 
gave  to  the  best  human  aspirations ;  his  progressive 
spirit,  and  the  higher  conceptions  of  well-being  to 
which  he  struggled  unswervingly  to  lead  society 
forward — all  these  features  of  his  life  and  work, 
combined  with  the  masterful  force  and  devoted  fer- 
vour of  his  own  mind,  entitle  Fra  Girolamo  Savonarola 
to  be  ranked  among  the  world's  great  epoch-making 
men. 


INDEX 


Albeeti,  Piero  degli,  234. 

Alexander  vi.,  Pope,  his  election 
and  character,  63,  64,  134;  scan- 
dalous doings  of  his  family  and 
Court,  162  ;  excommunication  of 
Savonarola,  169-171  ;  grief  over 
the  murder  of  his  son,  176,  177  ; 
threatens  Florence  with  an  Inter- 
dict, 196,  201  ;  his  gratification 
at  Savonarola's  imprisonment, 
232,  233  ;  sends  commissioners  to 
the  trial  of  Savonarola,  247. 

Angelico,  Fra,  28,  29. 

Antonino,  first  Prior  of  San  Marco, 
29. 

Apocalypse,  Savonarola  lectures  on, 
43,  44. 

Apology  for  the  Congregation  of  San 
Marco,  152. 

Aquinas,  Thomas,  Savonarola's 
study  of  his  writings,  12,  13,  24. 

Aristotle,  his  hold  on  the  schools  of 
the  Middle  Ages,  12. 

Arrabbiati,  126,  147,  166. 

Art  in  Florence,  33  ;  Savonarola's 
attitude  towards,  159,  160. 

Bargello,  the,  180,  234. 

Benedetto,  Fra,  226,  228,  240. 

Benevieni.  Girolamo,  158. 

Bentivoglio,  Giovanni,  his  wife 
interrupts  Savonarola's  sermons 
and  threatens  his  life,  66-68. 

Bianchi,  the  ''Whites,"  126. 

Biblioteca  Laurenziana,  159. 

Bigi,  the  "Greys,"  126. 


Bologna,  Savonarola's  monastic  life 

at,  21-25  ;    his   preaching  at  a 

later  visit,  66-68. 
Bonsi,  Domenico,  55. 
Borgia,    Piero,    Duke  of    Gandia, 

murder  of,  176,  177. 
Borgia,  Roderigo,  elected  Pope.    See 

Alexander  vi. 
Bracci,  Ser  Alessandro,  164, 
Brescia,  39,  40. 
Briefs,    Papal,    with    reference    to 

Savonarola,  135,  136,   137,  139, 

152,  169,  197,  201. 

Calvin,  his  experiment  compared 
with  Savonarola's,  121. 

Cambi,  Giovanni,  179. 

"  Canti  Carnascialeschi, "  34. 

Capponi,  Piero,  82,  83  ;  defies 
Charles  viii.,  92  ;  death,  150. 

Caraffa,  Cardinal,  of  Naples,  70, 
142,  152,  164,  250. 

Cardinal's  hat,  offer  of,  to  Savon- 
arola, 148,  149. 

Careggi,  scene  of  Lorenzo  de  Medici's 
death,  58. 

Carnival,  Savonarola's  efforts  to 
reform,  141,  142,  156. 

Ceccone,  Ser,  the  notary  engaged 
for  Savonarola's  trial,  236,  240, 
248. 

Charles  viii.  of  France,  his  de- 
signs on  Naples,  78  ;  enters  Italy, 
80  ;  interviews  with  Savonarola, 
87,  88,  93,  94,  130, 131  ;  occupies 
Florence,  90-94  ;  his  death,  233. 


270 


INDEX 


Commissioners,  Papal,  appointed 
to  try  Savonarola,  243,  247. 

Compagnacci,  the  "Evil  Com- 
panions," 126,  155,  168. 

Compendium  JRevelationum,  115, 
117,  225. 

''Conclusions"  of  Fra  Domenico, 
210. 

Congregation,  separation  of  Tuscan 
from  Lombard,  69,  70. 

Constitution  of  Florence  remodelled, 
102-107. 

Council  of  the  Church,  General, 
Savonarola's  efforts  to  secure, 
205-207. 

Council,  Great,  instituted  at  Flor- 
ence, 102,  103. 

"Cyrus,"  the  new,  from  beyond 
the  Alps,  75. 

Devotional  writings  of  Savon- 
arola, 73,  184. 

Dialogo  delta  Verita  Profetica, 
117. 

Domenico  da  Pescia.  Fra,  137,  141, 
155  ;  accepts  the  challenge  to 
the  ordeal  by  fire,  207,  217,  231; 
execution,  259. 

Dominicans,  a  preaching  order,  26  ; 
last  injunctions  of  their  founder, 
71. 

Donatello's  "Judith  and  Holo- 
fernes,"  108. 

Duomo  of  Florence,  scene  of  Savon- 
arola's pulpit  triumphs,  45,  101, 
102,  105, 106,  109-112. 

Editcatign,  Savonarola's  interest 
in,  118. 

Epistle  against  the  Surreptitious  Ex- 
communication,  172,  173. 

Este  family,  10,  11. 

Excommunication  of  Savonarola, 
169-171  ;  discussions  as  to  its 
validity,  172, 173. 

Execution  of  Bernardo  del  Nero  and 
his  fellow-conspirators,  180  ;  of 
Savonarola  and  his  two  brother- 
monks,  258-260. 


Ferrara,  11  ;  Savonarola's  early 
preaching  effort,  26. 

Ficino,  Marsilio,  31,  158. 
j  Florence,  28  ;  its  appearance,  people, 
and  industries,  29  ;  its  condition 
under  Medici  rule,  30-33  ;  art- 
istic and  literary  activity  com- 
bined with  moral  degeneracy,  33  ; 
expulsion  of  the  Medici,  86  ;  visit 
of  the  French,  90-94  ;  re- 
establishment  of  Reymblican 
constitution,  95-107  ;  pestilence 
and  famine,  149  ;  unsuccessful 
attempt  of  Piero  de  Medici  to 
return,  165,  166  ;  visited  by  the 
plague,  175  ;  trial  of  the  Medicean 
conspirators,  179-182  ;  threat- 
ened mth  a  Papal  Interdict,  196  ; 
arrival  of  Pope's  commissioners, 
247  ;  the  death  scene  of  Savon- 
arola, 256-260. 

Francesco  di  Puglia,  Fra,  challenges 
Savonarola  to  the  ordeal  by  fire, 
209,  210. 

Francis  of  Assisi,  his  youth  con- 
trasted with  Savonarola's,  13. 

French  alliance  with  Florence,  93. 

French  in  Florence,  90-94. 

Gandia,  Duke  of,  176,  177. 
Gerson's   views  on  submission  to 

ecclesiastical  authority,  173. 
Guilds    of   Youth,    formed    under 

Savonarola,  141,  142. 

Holy  League,  130,  148,  153. 
Humanists,  3,  4,  264. 

Innocent  VIIL,  Pope,  38. 

Interdict,  Papal,  on  Florence  threat- 
ened, 196,  197. 

Italy,  Renaissance  in,  2-8,  50,  51 ; 
its  princes  great  patrons  of  learn- 
ing and  art,  2  ;  their  despotism 
and  luxury,  5,  75  ;  invaded  by 
Charles  viii.,  80,  81  ;  jealousies 
among  its  States,  81. 

"Lazarus,  come  forth,"  163,  205. 
Letters  of  Savonarola,  to  his  father, 


INDEX 


271 


19,  20 ;  to  his  mother,  40,  41  ; 
to  Fra  Domenico,  52,  53  ;  to 
Pope  Alexander,  136,  137,  138, 
170  ;  on  death  of  Pope's  son,  177, 
178  ;  last  remonstrance,  203,  204. 

Library,  Medicean,  rescued  by 
Savonarola,  159. 

Ludovico  Sforza,  Duke  of  Milan,  78, 
135,  149,  151,  207. 

Luther's  view  of  Savonarola's  doc- 
trine as  foreshadowing  his  own, 
246. 

Macchiavelli,  97,  107. 

Malatesta  Sacromoro,  Fra,  offers 
himself  for  the  ordeal  by  tire,  211 ; 
plays  the  traitor,  230,  232. 

Mariano  da  Gennazzano,  Fra,  a 
rival  preacher,  35,  56,  57,  169, 
197. 

Mary  Tudor  and  Calais,  76. 

Mazzinghi,  Domenico,  207. 

Medici,  Cosimo  de,  28,  30. 

Medici,  Giuliano  de,  murder  of,  32. 

Medici,  Lorenzo  de,  30  ;  his  patron- 
age of  culture  and  art,  31 ;  the 
Pazzi  conspiracy  against  his  life, 
32 ;  his  strangely  mixed  character 
and  pursuits,  34  ;  attitude  to- 
wards Savonarola,  53-60 ;  his 
death,  60. 

Medici,  Piero  de,  appearance  and 
character,  61,  62  ;  surrenders  to 
Charles  viii.,  84  ;  expulsion  from 
Florence,  86  ;  attempt  to  return, 
195,  196. 

Medici  palace  ransacked,  94. 

Meditations,  Savonarola's,  on 
Psalms  51st  and  31st,  243-247. 

Michael  Angelo,  31  ;  his  interest  in 
Savonarola,  160. 

Mirandola,  Pico  della,  31  ;  his 
learning  and  gifts,  36,  37;  secures 
return  of  Savonarola  to  Florence, 
42  ;  his  sympathy  with  Savon- 
arola's work,  84. 

Monte  di  Pieta,  its  objects,  118  ; 
inauguration  of,  146. 

Morgante  Maggiore,  Pulci's,  31. 

Mysticism,  Savonarola's,  47-49. 


Nero,  Bernardo  del,  165 ;  execution 
on  charge  of  treason,  179. 

Niccolini,  Agnolo,  250. 

Niccolini,  Jacopo,  252-254. 

Niccolo  d'Este,  Duke  of  Ferrara,  10. 

Noah's  Ark,  sermons  on,  76,  77, 
80,  81. 

Ordeal  by  fire,  208-223. 

Pageants  and  spectacles  provided 
by  Italian  princes,  5,  11. 

Palazzo  Vecchio,  Savonarola 
preaches  in,  52,  101  ;  its  Great 
Hall,  149,  253  ;  Savonarola  im- 
prisoned in  tower,  232  ;  his  last 
Sacrament  in  chapel,  254,  255. 

"  Palle,  Palle  !  "  rallying  cry  of  the 
Medici,  86. 

Parlamento,  95,  131,  132. 

Parties  and  party  names  in 
Florence,  125,  126. 

Pazzi  conspiracy,  32. 

Piagnoni,  126,  166. 

Piazza  della  Signoria,  scene  of  re- 
jection of  Piero  de  Medici,  86  ; 
of  the  Burning  of  the  Vanities, 
156,  157,  195  ;  of  the  gathering 
for  the  ordeal  by  fire,  216,  217  ; 
of  the  death  of  Savonarola,  256- 
260. 

Pisa  throws  off  allegiance  to 
Florence,  89  ;  Savonarola's  visit, 
85,  87,  88. 

Plague  in  Florence,  149,  175. 

Plato,  Savonarola's  study  of,  17, 
24,  25. 

Platonic  Academy  at  Florence,  31, 
33,  34. 

Poems,  Savonarola's,  15,  23. 

Poetry,  Savonarola's  views  on,  158. 

Poggibonsi,  130,  131. 

Police,  boy,  organised  by  Savon- 
arola, 155,  156. 

Poliziano,  Angelo,  31,  84. 

Prato,  Savonarola's  visit,  148. 

Preaching,  character  of  Savon- 
arola's, 45,  47,  75,  76,  145. 

Prelates,  Savonarola's  sarcasm  on, 
74,  75. 


272 


INDEX 


Prophecies,  Savonarola's,  believed 
in  by  himself,  65,  114,  115. 

Propositions,  Savonarola's  three, 
38, 

Pucci,  Gionozzo,  179. 

Pulci,  Luigi,  author  of  Morgante 
Maggiore,  31. 

Rapallo,  sack  of,  80. 

Reform  of  San  Marco  Convent, 
69-72  ;  of  Florentine  manners, 
119-121  ;  of  Carnival,  141,  156  ; 
of  taxes,  104. 

Reggio,  Chapter-General  at,  36. 

Renaissance,  2-5  ;  Savonarola's  in- 
fluence on  it,  6-9,  50,  51,  264- 
267. 

Revolution  in  Florence,  82,  86. 

Riario,  Count,  32. 

Ridolfi,  Niccolo,  179. 

Rieti,  Tommaso  da,  107. 

Robbia,  Fra  Luca  della,  226. 

Romolino,  Francesco,  247,  248,  250, 
251,  257. 

Rondinelli,  Fra  Giuliano,  210, 
218. 

Rovere,  Cardinal  Giuliano  della, 
78,  205,  206. 

Rucellai,  Bernardo,  55. 

''  Ruina  Ecclesiae,  De,"  23. 

''RuinaMundi,  De,"  15. 

"  Rule  for  Virtuous  Living,"  247. 

Sacrament,  Savonarola's  last,  254, 
255. 

Salviati,  Marcuccio,  215. 

Salviati,  Fra  Roberto,  211,  219. 

San  Gallo,  convent  and  church  of, 
56,  57. 

San  Gemignano,  38. 

San  Lorenzo,  church  of,  Savon- 
arola's first  attempt  to  preach  in 
Florence,  34. 

San  Marco,  convent  of,  28,  29  ; 
Savonarola's  reforms  and  rela- 
tions with  the  monks,  69-73  ; 
attacked  by  the  mob,  225  ;  de- 
fection of  the  monks,  240,  241. 

Santa  Croce,  convent  and  church 
of.  209,  233. 


Savonarola,  Elena,  mother  of  Giro- 
lamo,  10  ;  letter  to  her,  40,  41. 

Savonarola,  Girolamo,  Fra,  birth 
and  parentage,  10  ;  boyhood  and 
early  education,  11-13  ;  religious 
broodings,  14,  15  ;  love  episode, 
16  ;  resolves  on  the  monastic  life, 
17,  18  ;  letter  to  his  father,  19, 
20  ;  austerities  at  Bologna,  21, 
22  ;  poem,  "  De  Ruina  Ec- 
clesiae," 23;  work  among  the 
novices,  24  ;  study  of  Plato,  24, 
25  ;  love  for  Old  Testament,  25  ; 
preaches  at  Ferrara,  26  ;  trans- 
ferred to  Florence,  27  ;  failure  in 
his  first  preaching  there,  34,  35  ; 
Chapter-General  at  Reggio,  36, 
37  ;  fore -consciousness  of  his 
mission,  37 ;  preaches  in  the 
provinces,  where  he  puts  forth 
his  three  propositions  and  finds 
his  power,  38-41  ;  recalled  to 
Florence,  42  ;  lectures  in  convent 
garden,  43  ;  begins  to  preach  in 
church  of  San  Marco,  and  then 
in  Cathedral,  44,  45  ;  style  of 
preaching  and   personal  appear- 

'■^  ance,  44-48 ;  influence  on  the 
Renaissance,  6-9,  50,  51  ;  elected 
Prior  of  his  convent,  53  ;  atti- 
tude towards  Lorenzo  de  Medici, 
53-60  ;  preaches  at  Bologna,  66- 
68  ;  his  reforms  at  San  Marco, 
69-73  ;  denunciations  of  prelates 
and  princes,  74,  75  ;  sermons  on 
Noah's  Ark,  76,  77,  80,  81  ; 
ambassador  to  Charles  viii.  at 
Pisa,  83-89  ;  constrains  Charles 
to  leave  Florence,  93,  94  ;  re- 
establishes the  Republican  con- 
stitution in  Florence,  98-107  ; 
endeavours  to  convert  Florence 
into  a  Theocracy,  108-122  ;  pub- 
.^  lishes  Cojnjyendium  Revelationum 
in  defence  of  his  visions  and  pro- 
phecies, 115-117  ;  reformation  of 
manners,  119  ;  difficulties  in  his 
work,  123-133  ;  enmity  of  the 
Pope,  134-140  ;  work  among  the 
young,  141,  142,  146,  147  ;  the 


INDEX 


273 


offer  of  a  cardinal's  hat,  148,  149  ; 
new  troubles  with  the  Pope,  151, 
152  ;  the  burning  of  the  "  Vani- 
ties," 154-161  ;  attitude  towards 
art  and  poetry,  158-161  ;  rescues 
the  Medicean  Library,  158,  159  ; 
gradual  decline  of  his  power,  166, 

167  ;  insults  by  the  Compagnacci, 

168  ;  sentence  of  excommunica- 
tion, 169-171  ;  his  defence,  172, 
173 ;  six  months  of  silence, 
175-185 ;  devoted  conduct  dur- 
ing the  plague,  175,  176  ;  letter 
of  condolence  to  the  Pope,  177, 
178  ;  The  Triumph  of  the  Cross, 
184-186  ;  defies  the  Pope,  189, 
190  ;  strange  challenge  in  front 
of  San  Marco,  194,  195  ;  gather- 
ing shadows,  196,  197  ;  letter  of 
remonstrance  to  the  Pope,  203, 
204  ;  closes  his  public  ministry, 
204,  205  ;  efforts  to  procure  a 
General  Council  of  the  Church, 
205-207 ;  challenged  to  the 
ordeal  by  fire,  209-214  ;  his 
convent  attacked  by  the  mob, 
225  ;  surrender  and  imprison- 
ment, 231,  232  ;  examination  and 
torture,  234-237  ;  second  trial, 
238,  239  ;  his  monks  break 
down  in  their  allegiance,  240  ; 
writes  in  prison  his  expositions 
of  51st  and  31st  Psalms,  243-247  ; 
third  trial,  under  Pope's  com- 
missioners, 248-250  ;  sentenced 
to  death,  250  ;  interview  with 
his  two  companions  in  tribula- 
tion, 253 ;  his  last  night  on 
earth,  254  ;  last  Sacrament,  255  ; 
the  death  scene,  258-260 ;  re- 
verence of  his  faithful  disciples 
for  his  memory,  260 ;  the  cir- 
cumstances which  embarrassed 
his    career,    261-263 ;    his    real 

V  greatness,  services,  and  place  in 
history,  263-268. 

Savonarola,  Michele,  grandfather 
of  Girolamo,  10,  11. 

Savonarola,  Niccolo,  father  of  Giro- 
lamo, 10  ;  letter  to  him,  19,  20. 


Scholastic  philosophy,  12,  24. 
Silvestro   Marufti,    Fra,    212,    232,      • 

239,  252,  253  ;  his  death,  258. 
Simplicity  of  the  Christian  Life,  On 

the,  148. 
Six  Beans,  Law  of  the,  104,  105. 
Sixtus  IV.,  Pope,  22,  23,  32. 
Soderini,  Paolo  Antonio,  55,  100. 
Soldiers,  Savonarola's  remonstrance 

with,  26,  27. 
Spini,  Dolfo,  155,  168,  215,  234. 
Strozzi,  Alessandro,  219. 
Strozzi,    Laodamia,    unsuccessfully 

wooed  by  Savonarola,  16. 

Taxes,  reform  of,  in  Florence,  104. 
Tornabuoni,  Lorenzo,  179. 
Tractates,  Savonarola's  devotional, 

73, 184. 
Trattato    circa    il     Reggim-ento    e 

Governo  della  Cittd  di  Firenza, 

100. 
Trial  of  Bernardo  del  Nero  and 

the    Medici    conspirators,    179, 

180;    of    Savonarola,    234-240, 

248-250. 
Triumph  of  the   Cross,  The,  154, 

184-186. 
''Turn    of   the    Key,"  the,    198, 

205. 
Turriano,  Giovacchino,  247. 

Ughi,  Fra  Mariano,  211,  224. 

Valori,  Francesco,  55,  100,  154, 

180,  226,  227. 
Vanities,  Burning  of  the,  156-161, 

195. 
Vasona,  Bishop  of,  257. 
Venetian  model,  the,  100. 
Vespucci,  Guid'  Antonio,  55,  100, 

200. 
Violi,  Lorenzo,  reporter  of  Savon- 
arola's sermons,  112. 
Vision  of  the  two  crosses,  62,  63  ;     y 
c-iihG  sword,  64. 
j  visions  and    prophecies,    48,    49, 
!      114,  115. 
1 
j  Zati,  Bartolo,  234. 


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